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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

Text

INDEBTED

Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.

Word Count: 4.8k words

Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Embezzlement.

What a weird word.

It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.

For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.

Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.

It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.

Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.

You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.

Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.

You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.

Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.

Rafe Cameron.

"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."

The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.

“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.

"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his cigarette before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."

A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"

He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”

“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.

“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”

“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.

"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”

Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.

“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.

Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”

“So do mine,” you shot back.

“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”

You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.

"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Rafe flicked his cigarette onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.

“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."

A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.

"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.

Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.

"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is far more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.

"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.

"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”

The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.

Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish," he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."

He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.

"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured. "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.

"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."

Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.

How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.

In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.

You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.

"We need to talk."

Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.

"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”

Was Rafe’s curt response.

You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.

The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.

And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.

Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.

"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.

"Movies. You know, I hadn't expected a text from you so soon." his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."

"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"

Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."

"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"

“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.

"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.

His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. You willing to fuck me at least twice a day? No? Then eleven."

You straightened your back, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."

His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our little arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two…” he shrugged nonchalantly “It might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"

You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.

Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"

"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”

“Not using them--”

“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”

“While I should be fucking insulted” he said dryly “I always glove up and get tested regularly too.”

“Okay, so why are you suddenly against using condoms with me, then?”

“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw.”

Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”

“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”

“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”

“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms while fucking, no condoms for blowjobs.”

"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.

Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.

"No. No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”

You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.

"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.

You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.

"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"

Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.

"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"

Another nod.

"Anything else?"

“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.

“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”

" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.

You extended your hand towards him.

"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.

"A handshake. To seal the deal."

Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. "How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured, "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than kissing very soon."

Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction.

“Ah ah” he chided. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.

"Play. Nice.” he whispered, his voice considerably smug. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.

A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.

His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.

Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.

Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.

"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."

"All clear."

That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.

As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.

You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.

But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.

This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.

When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.

It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-

"I'll be there."

It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.

At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.

As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.

The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.

Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.

His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.

A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

"One minute" he said, as he cracked his neck from side to side, his eyes boring into you. "You get a one-minute head start and after that, after that--" he sighed happily "I'm coming for you. Run."

Panic gripped you. "Run? What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.

But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."

A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.

You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.

At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of paint and cedar filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.

Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.

The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.

Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.

Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.

As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.

Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.

"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”

"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.

"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."

You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.

One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.

"There," he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.

That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to satiating his ever-growing hunger.

Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through the gag.

"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.

He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.

After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting intensity. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, a primal heat surging from deep within.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.

You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you could not bear.

"Oh, you'll cum-" he sneered.

In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.

"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, pounding you with relentless force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic punishing slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to your impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.

The room reverberated with your agonized screams as your orgasm overtook you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing around his cock as you climaxed.

Rafe fucked you with a feverish frenzy, burying his face in the back of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's orgasm struck, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin as he stuffed his cock deep.

Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.

The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.

Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his messy hair, highlighting his heightened state of manic exhilaration.

"Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his words, "Next time, we'll use rope."

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Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

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south-of-heaven · 7 months

Note

triple h x mcmahon!reader x shawn where reader betrays her family to join DX?

Not your little girl anymore || Triple H x Reader

Summary: Hunter has been nagging you about joining DX for weeks. You decide it's time.

The tension had been building for weeks. Triple H had been relentless, cornering you whenever he could, whispering in your ear, planting seeds of doubt and intrigue. The question of loyalty weighed heavily on your mind, as you were caught in the crossfire of a family feud unlike any other.

For generations, the McMahons had been a dynasty, a legacy in the wrestling world. Vince McMahon, your father, had built an empire. But now, D-Generation X was pulling you away, beckoning you to the rebellious side of the ring. It was an offer you couldn't ignore any longer.

Tonight, the standoff reached its climax in the center of the ring. Your father, Vince, stood on one side, the embodiment of tradition and authority, and Triple H, with his sly smile and leather jacket, represented the defiance of DX on the other.

You watched from the middle, torn between family and a different kind of family. The crowd roared, fully aware that your decision could change the landscape of WWF forever.

Finally, you made your choice. You turned your back on your father, on the legacy you had been born into, and joined Triple H and DX. The moment was electric. The cheers and boos from the crowd were deafening.

Hunter was pleased, his plan had worked. He reached out, pulling you closer to him, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was done; you were now part of DX, and Triple H wasn't shy about marking his territory.

As the two of you started to walk away from the ring, leaving your father seething in the center, Hunter's hand slipped into the back pocket of your jeans. He stopped suddenly, pausing the two of you at the top of the ramp.

With a wicked grin, he leaned in and claimed your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It wasn't just about your newfound alliance; it was a declaration of possession. You were no longer Vince McMahon's little girl. You were Triple H's woman now, and he made sure your father knew it.

The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and jeers as the kiss continued, a symbol of the changing of the guard, and the beginning of a new era in your wrestling career and personal life. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with trepidation as you embarked on this new path with Triple H and DX.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #triple h x reader #triple h #hunter hearst helmsley x reader #hhh #paul levesque

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stirringwinds · 3 months

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When do u think the modern personification of Korea was born? Cause there is the kingdom of Goguryeo which place Korea at like 4000(but like would it be like a china situation where it’s the same personification who’s just stupidly old or like Greece and Egypt where they had an ancient version) there’s also the three kingdoms period which started about 2000 years ago. Or there’s even the more modern eras like Joseon. I’m just curious how old u see the current personification as.

*Gojoseon I accidentally typed the wrong G kingdom. Goguryeo was later on. Sorry for any confusion

thanks for the question! this is my personal take on it: yong-soo is at least 2000 years old; he thus dates back to the three kingdoms period rather than to gojoseon. i do think there's always some wiggle room with the age of a personification and how we interpret history so i can see other variations; my main hard no is making him too young (such as born after the 1950 korean war...please no).

contemporarily, yong-soo represents south korea, but in the beginning, i see him as the old korean kingdom of silla. nations don't suddenly spring into existence overnight, so while silla was was officially founded in 57 BCE, he's probably older than that. that's just the latest date i see him being around by. yong soo, imo, also has/had at least two brothers: goguryeo (who later represents north korea after wwii) and baekje, who was kiku's close ally—as per how, in real history, the kingdom of baekje and yamato japan had quite an important alliance. baekje dies by a combination of yong-soo and yao's actions after the baekje-tang war—as per how baekje got annexed into the kingdom of silla, and china crushed the japanese forces attempting to support baekje restorationists at the battle of baekgang. i don't think yong-soo necessarily wanted his brother to die, but it was a power struggle, and those have consequences (as tang dynasty yao would probably say coolly, while seated atop his war horse...😔)—nations mirror humans, and how often have royal houses across different cultures warred against family members throughout human history? so, it's kind of sombre but there were once three brothers.

overall, i see yong-soo as an old nation who's lived many lives before his present incarnation as the republic of korea (and in the east asian cosmology; reincarnation is quite a familiar concept for us). i see him being older than kiku, and he's the one who taught kiku advanced shipbuilding and navigation, as a reflection of how mariners/shipbuilders from silla influenced japan. this is naturally very ironic from the meiji era onwards, particularly when korea comes under japanese colonial rule, and kiku refashions himself as a 'modern' naval power. so, rather than the canon dynamic that seems to posit a rather youthful yong-soo vs. old man china and japan...imo it's really Old Men Wrestling with the Confucian Hierarchy All the Way Down (even if Yong-soo's skincare regimen means he looks good and he is skilled at putting on a friendly and youngish persona if need be). one implication that's important to me about yong-soo's age is exploring how he and kiku (and also yao) have a very old relationship that runs deep due to all that history and cultural exchange, but it is naturally, far from easy.

#hetalia #hws south korea #hws north korea #hws baekje #hws japan #hetalia headcanons #im yong soo

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phantasmiac · 1 year

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pro wrestler!touya au where he’s the oldest son of the todoroki ring dynasty

cw/tw: none except for one nsfw mention (nothing detailed) and a fem!reader

wc: 0.9k

a/n: i need everyone who knows their wwe to know that 1) i am imagining endeavor as the undertaker and 2) the dabi x reader in this is highly inspired by cm punk and aj lee. do with that what you will xx

touya who has one of the most anticipated wrestling debuts of all time at 19 years old, all because he’s the son of pro wrestling legends, rei and endeavor. he’s an instant hit because of his badass persona and alt ring attire (see: jeff hardy), but most notably for his “daredevil” style of wrestling: crazy stunts with tables, ladders, chairs, etc., lots of high flying maneuvers; but he also falls under the brawler category. it all makes up for not being a “powerhouse” wrestler (the ones who are huge and can lift a ton) like his old man or his up and coming little brother natsu. he definitely has some metal entrance song like the ones used in the 2000s (imagine him walking out to metalingus 😫).

touya hates being linked to his parents, and really would have preferred if his siblings hadn’t followed him into the industry — but still hypes up them up during any out of character interviews and supports them as best he can. especially fuyumi bc he knows the women in the industry don’t get the credit they deserve 😡 gives great advice and won’t turn them down if they ask to train with him. but he downright refuses to be involved in any family storylines, he thinks it’s super corny. doesn’t mind being put in real matches against them or tag teaming, just as long as it doesn’t become a whole thing.

touya most often takes on the heel role (aka the bad guy role), but doesn’t mind occasionally acting as a tweener (the anti-hero). his siblings are all faces (good guys). he’s perfect for the role because he’s amazing on a microphone. even though the storylines are planned, all of his segments or promos are written by him and contain a lot of great improv, and they’re always considered iconic by fans, bound to be on a “top 10 wrestling promos of all time” list. he’s just the bad guy you can’t help but root for, even if you’re a fan of his opponent. everyone hates that they love him! on the other hand it kinda sucks because his dad was also a popular heel during his career, so he gets a lot of comparisons.

backstage and out of character, touya is actually a super chill guy. he’s always down to do things for charity, whether it be matches or meeting fans. never says no to a picture or an autograph (unless you’re a dick about it) and has a soft spot for kid fans. you’ll most often find him with his head down listening to music in the locker room, hyping himself up before it’s time to head out to the ring. probably has beef with some other people on the roster because he comes off as arrogant (he’s just reserved and quiet!) and because of his family background. it makes him laugh because he’s really unbothered at the end of the day.

you’re put into a storyline with him where you’re supposed to act as his love interest, and fans are always commenting on how much chemistry you share. the fans eat it up because you’re the first female wrestler touya has ever interacted with both in and out of the ring. most fans thinks you both are probably just really good at acting; but the secret to your chemistry is the hot quickie you have backstage before every segment. you really do start off as coworkers at the beginning, and then friends with benefits, but as the storyline progresses and you’re forced to constantly work and spend time together he really starts to fall for you hard. needless to say you become a power couple pretty quickly and touya can’t even bring himself to be angry at the fact that you’re becoming the next generation rei and endeavor. because he loves and respects you so much 🥹 both as a fellow wrestler and a person.

you’re on the road together 24/7 and touya loves it because he gets to spend every day with his best friend! he loves to train with you, gets so very proud when he sees you pull out a move you’d practiced with him during an actual live match! he’s so funny bc he’s been in this industry for so long and understands that most rivalries aren’t real, but always ends up having animosity towards your opponents in real life 😭 especially if you got injured fighting against them, even if it was a complete accident. you sew and patch up a lot of his attire for him, so he always feels like he has a part of you with him when he goes out there. if you wear any of his siblings merch instead of his he’ll have a pout etched on his face for as long as it takes him to get over it. if your storyline eventually comes to an end he will adamantly refuse to do another romantic one with anyone else.

at the beginning of his career he expected to be one of those wrestlers who’s still in the game in their 50s. but by the time he’s in his mid 30s and you guys are over a decade into your relationship and a couple of years into your marriage, he decides he wants to settle down and have a family with you. so he ends up retiring and fans are heartbroken, but not angry because touya released the sweetest retirement message and they’re so happy for you two 🥰 he does make surprise comebacks once in awhile post retirement, can’t completely stay away from the ring. and now he’s entirely shameless about supporting his siblings. makes your kids become their super fans. sometimes he shows up to events to support them as an audience member, with his babies on his shoulders. he’s just living his peaceful little life knowing that he was able to have a successful career and retired as a legend.

★ a/n pt ii: are there any other dabi stans who had a hardcore wwe phase, is that a subgenre of dabi stan or does the population just consist of me

#dabi #dabi drabble #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi fanfic #dabi fluff #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader

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acknowledge-reigns · 7 months

Text

Introduction:

Hi, Everyone. I'm Luna. I've been a wrestling fan since the early 00s and a Roman Reigns stan since the second he debuted with the shield. He was/is my first, current and forever wrestling crush 💕 I'm here to post fan art, fan fiction, edits and occasionally shitpost 💖

If you do not agree with any of the following statements, unfollow me expeditiously:

BLACK LIVES MATTER ✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽

Protect trans kids (and all lgbtqia2s youth) 🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

Love is love 🏳‍🌈

Land back 🌿

Fuck the patriarchy 👸🏾

Free Congo 🇨🇩

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

Free Sudan 🇸🇩

Destigmatize mental health 🧠

No abelism ❌

No one has to believe in or abide by standards set forth by your sky daddy 🙃

Favorite Wrestlers -

Roman Reigns (Obviously my #1 always and forever)

Jey Uso

Jimmy Uso

Solo Sikoa

The Samoan Dynasty as a whole (Zilla, Jacob, Journey, Lance, Thamiko, Ava Raine, The Rock, Tamina, Trinity, Nia, Rikishi, Umaga, Yokozuna, Samoan Storm/Manu, Black Pearl, Samu, Tonga Kid and more. I love that whole family.)

Seth Rollins

Jon Moxley

Damien Priest

Carmelo Hayes

Trick Williams

Bianca Belair

Tiffany Stratton

Lash Legend

Kelani Jordan

Edge

The Undertaker.

My other wrestling related accounts:

Black Women in wrestling - @blkgirlwrestling

Damien Priest - @allriseforpriest

Carmelo Hayes/Trick Williams/Kelani Jordan- @mrs-melodontmiss

Backup account - @tribalchiefsprincess

Other accounts:

Lokean devotional account - @lokirescuedme

Random shitposting / Megan Thee Stallion - @lunadoesshitposting

Criminal Minds account - hiatus

TVD account - hiatus

Hamilton account - inactive

Masterlist:

🌶 = Smut 🩵 = Fluff 💔 = Angst

Roman ☝🏾

Jealous - Roman Reigns x OC 🌶

Good For You - Roman Reigns x reader (first person pov) 🌶

34+35 - Roman Reigns x OC 🌶

There Goes My Baby - Roman Reigns x OC 🌶

No Yeet - Roman Reigns x OC 🌶 🩵

Apologies - Roman Reigns x OC 🩵💔

Nonsense - Roman x OC 🌶 🩵

Worst To Me - Roman x OC 🌶 🩵💔

Solo 👍🏽

A Gorgeous Necklace - Solo Sikoa x OC 🌶

Jey 🤙🏾

Sugar - Jey Uso x Reader (first person pov) 🌶 🩵💔

Jimmy 🤪

**COMING SOON**

Zilla 👎🏾

**COMING SOON**

#masterlist #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fanfiction #acknowledge reigns masterlist

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interlagosed · 10 days

Note

I know exactly nothing about WWE but you have me intrigued anyway 👀

Ok ok let me pitch this to you. Big burly men. Literally roughing each other up as their job. It’s professional wrestling which means the WHOLE thing is storytelling. So you literally have narratives that can span years, even decades. The same person can become a hero and then a villain and then a hero again. They can go from the stupidest gimmick in the world to being a Serious, extremely nuanced character with deep motivations.

And also they are generally sweaty and usually some degree of naked and oh my GOD is there homoeroticism the house down.

The ficlet was about two rivals trying to go up against a dynasty that has run wrestling for the last several years, backed by an industry giant. They set their rivalry aside to partner up. Burly boy 1 is trying to do what his family members, who were also wrestles, couldn’t do and win the ultimate championship. Last year, he made it to the end but was literally cheated out of the championship. This year, he has made it to the end, but he keeps getting beat up by said dynasty and industry giant. Burly boy 2, former rival of burly boy 1, also has history with the head of the dynasty. They used to be in the same team so to speak but he turned on the head of the dynasty. Now he’s joined forces with burly boy 1 and has literally promised to be his shield. Like. FULLY takes beatings for him. Bad beatings. Puts his own championship match on the back burner to focus on burly boy 1’s match “because some things are bigger than us.”

I won’t give you all the details, but ultimately Seth (burly boy 2) intervenes in Cody’s (burly boy 1) match with Roman (head of the present dynasty) wearing an outfit he KNOWS will trigger Roman into attacking SETH rather than finishing the job with Cody. So he takes a fucking steel chair to the back, with all his injuries, and gets laid out. All because he knows that is all Cody needs to win it all.

And Cody does win it all. The dynasty is ended, Cody is able to honor his family, and Seth…doesn’t gain anything—he actually LOSES his own match—other than the satisfaction of knowing he did the right thing for the right person.

SO YEAH I MADE THEM KISS.

#hibi answers #wwe #seth rollins #Cody Rhodes

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cozyaliensuperstar7 · 10 months

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The Bloodline Civil War 👑☝🏾🩸(MITB 2023)

Jimmy said, "Me and my brother against my other brothers." 😭😭

Not my brother and cousin...my other brothers. Some people don't even see their cousins much or know their cousins. They're so close they consider Roman (Joe) their brother. That's what makes this storyline so emotional for their fans. We know how much Joe, Jon, Josh and Joseph (Sefa) really love and care about each other. We know how proud Paul is being a part of this because he knew all of them since they were kids.

#paul heyman #solo sikoa #jimmy uso #jey uso #roman reigns #the tribal chief #undisputed wwe universal champion #longest reigning universal champion ever #greatest universal champion ever #1036+ days and counting...#the bloodline soap opera #the bloodline civil war #mitb 2023 #the greatest family in wrestling #the samoan dynasty

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novankenn · 10 months

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Chp 2 - King of Kings

Yang returned to Beacon without confronting her fellow blond. Too many questions rolled about in her head. Too many inconsistencies between what she knew, thought she knew, and now knew threatening to give her a splitting headache. She said nothing as she returned to her dorm. She made some noncommittal responses to her teammates inquiries about where she had been, before climbing into the shower and then her bed. Pulling out her ear buds, she set up her scroll in her lap, and began a new search, or searches. She needed to find out more about Jaune, and she openly admitted to herself; in her mind that she was hooked. She had willing dove headfirst into the rabbit hole. The spectacle of what she had just experienced drew her in. She needed more and once she slated her desires, she would corner him.

/=/

Time quickly passed, and soon it was almost two weeks since Yang made her discovery, and now she was nearly a literal encyclopedia of Jaune related wrestling trivia; not that she had anyone to share that knowledge with. She had scoured the CCT-Net and watched years of matches, of not only Jaune but also his family. The Arc family was huge, and popular. Jaune was actually a third generation wrestler, which surprised Yang to find out that his family was so rooted in the sport, no sorry, she mentally corrected herself; Sports Entertainment. The Arcs were an actual a pillar of the industry not only with they themselves being in the sport, but also training many of the current stars.

It was almost mind melting the amount of information Yang was processing. Of course none of it had a lick to do with combating grimm, but she couldn't stop. She had forum sites bookmarked for daily visits. She used some of her Bumblebee maintenance funds to purchase a subscription to a streaming service. One that she would binge-watch all things Arc related. She had seen Jaune as a young teen. When he barely had any meat on his bones, up to now. She had seen him at ringside, supporting his father and then his sisters; before moving to actually also performing in the ring.

She knew all his moves, and trademark spots. She had seen his evolution from a high flying baby-face, to his most recent incarnation as a brutal hardcore gladiator. The extreme matches really got to her. The added violence, the hints of blood, the pure chaos of the matches. It seemed almost more akin to a real fight, just with more artistic elements. She had avoided the “real vs fake” era, and was educated enough to know that there was more going on with what happened in the ring than most fans realized. But despite that, she was impressed with Jaune. Even if everything wasn't one hundred percent real, he still needed to be hardy enough to handle the punishment. He still need to be conditioned enough to perform full tilt for upwards of twenty to thirty minutes, every couple of nights. Then of course there was the pure physical strength he had.

She had been awed, watching as he body slammed another man who supposedly weighed in at over three hundred pounds. If Yang could remember correctly, at the time, Jaune was weighing in at a buck seventy. The blond noodle had held in the air and manipulated twice his body-weight in living flesh. No one she knew had ever done something like that. She was smitten with the world and the fantasy. She was ready to face him, and get more specific answers from him. Answers she couldn't get from watching videos and reading blogs.

But first there was a pay-per-view coming up, and she needed to see what the card was going to be like. If it was more worth her while to attend in person, or watch online. She already knew Jaune was in the line-up. Apparently there was some big mixed promotional Hardcore event going to happen in Mistral a month before the Vytal Festival. His match would be a warm-up to prepare for the big night, a month and a half away.

/=/

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed as she noticed Yang close in on her partner as he waited in the lunch line. Something about the energy she was giving off as she approached him was making her wonder. Pyrrha had learned to read body language; it was a part of her training, and served her well both in and out of the combat ring. She could tell Yang was up to something, she just wasn't sure what. She shivered as a thought passed through her mind. Yang wasn't really good at hiding things, especially from her sister Ruby. It was through Ruby that everyone was warned to avoid mentioning anything about professional wrestling. Apparently Yang had become a rabid fan of the “fake sport” recently, and was devoting all her spare time to her new obsession. Pyrrha hoped that Yang wasn't trying to rope Jaune into becoming a fan of that farce.

Thinking about the possibility caused her to wince. Jaune was too nice to become involved in something so lowbrow. Wrestling was an ageless sport. A tradition in many combat art schools, yet what Yang was a fan of. What she was digesting religiously was not that valued practice. It was cheap theatrics and bad stories. Tits and Ass for the sake of Tits and Ass. She had been turned away form even watching the nonsense when she was still testing the waters of a tournament career. She had wanted to expose herself to other combat sports, but was roundly told that Professional Wrestling was not a combat sport.

Pyrrha sighed, and returned her attention to the meal before her. Even with her training Jaune, she was still struggling to reach out to him. To let her feelings be known. If only she had more in common with him. He did like his comics. Maybe she could tempt fate and reach out to him for guidance in taking up that hobby. The clatter of a metal tray crashing to the tiled floor, caused her to jump. Her emerald eyes quickly scanned the cafeteria to find the source, for them only to go wide in shock as she watched Jaune, actually physically drag Yang out of the expansive room.

/=/

Jaune: How much to keep you shut-up about it ALL?

Jaune hissed after he had dragged Yang far enough away from any potential students in a position capable of overhearing.

Yang: Hey! (Snapping at him in disbelief) I'm not after your money!

Jaune: Keep your voice down, and tell me what this is all about. If you're not looking for a handout, then what is it?

Yang: I wanted to talk. Just talk.

Jaune: Why now? After all this time, why now?

Yang: I followed you a few weeks ago, after you had one of your less stellar spars. I was going to try and cheer you up, but...

Jaune: What did you see?

Yang: You're Hardcore debut, Mr. Crown Prince.

Jaune: Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Yang: Whoa, whoa Jaune, What's the problem?

Jaune: I didn't want anyone to know, nor do I want anyone finding out.

Yang: Why?

Jaune: I'm tired of being part of a legacy. I've grown up in the industry. I lived the industry, now I want something for myself. Something different, and if people find out about that other stuff...

Yang: You think your chances would be ruined.

Jaune: Exactly.

Yang: You do realize there are others here at Beacon that think you look like someone famous. It was sort of why I started looking into you, though, until that night... I just thought you looked like him.

Jaune: Fuck!

Yang: I don't understand Jaune. You have talent, you have skill...

Jaune: I severely doubt any grimm will tap out to a Boston crab.

Yang: But Cardin would.

Jaune: Yang, what I've spent my life learning isn't going to help...

Yang: Then why? I mean, you have a life outside of this. A good life. A supportive family. You're basically royalty.

Jaune: I want to be more.

Yang: More?

Jaune: I want to do more than just entertain. I want to really help. Like my Great-Grandfather did during the War, and I can't do that running ropes and throwing clotheslines.

Yang's eyes narrowed. She was getting what Jaune was saying, but he was missing something important. Something he couldn't see because he was in the middle of it all. It was a little factoid she had stumbled on, and followed through on.

Yang: What attracts grimm?

Jaune: Negative emotions. Why?

Yang: What types of emotions do you feel when you're taking part in an event?

Jaune: Why are you asking this, Yang?

Yang: Just humour me. What types of emotions?

Jaune: Excitement, joy...

Yang: Simple answer would be positive ones.

Jaune: So?

Yang: (Sighing) You're not following. You say you want to do more, but you're not noticing or realizing you are doing more. In fact, from the short amount of time in which I've become a fan, I KNOW you're doing a better job of keeping people safe, than a huntress can.

Jaune: Huntsmen fight the grimm, how does me performing before groups...

Yang: Huntresses fight grimm, when grimm show up. We show up when things are at the worst. Yes, some are stationed in settlements, but still we are only there when things have become the worst possible result.

Jaune: But you still...

Yang: Yes, we do. But I've found out something, and I figure seeing as you are in the middle of it, you wouldn't.

Jaune: And what would that be?

Yang: So, as you know, I'm a sort of punch first kinda of gal, and I'm not an expert on grimm behaviour, yet for whatever reason I did some looking, and reading.

Jaune: Okay.

Yang: Grimm numbers drop after an event.

Jaune: Huh?

Yang: I know right? But there are studies, and records.

Yang pulled out her scroll and pulled up one of her bookmarked sites, and moved to a pinned post.

Yang: The positive energies that such numerous people radiate drive the grimm off. Even with the supposed good versus bad story lines, the joy of being a part of the spectacle is what does it.

Jaune: I never...

Yang: Neither had I, until I saw what you do; and Jaune you are good. Real good.

Jaune: Thanks. But still...

Yang: I understand. I do, and I can't say if I was in your position I wouldn't be making the same choices, but I know I would do one thing very much differently.

Jaune: And what would that be?

Yang: Put Cardin in his place.

Jaune: And how....

Yang: A Headlock is a headlock, Jaune. A hip throw is a hip throw. Yours might be more flamboyant, but in the end they can do the same thing.

Jaune: Are you trying to tell me to...

Yang: (Smirking) Yes. No one would expect you to dropkick Cardin in the face, or for you to toss him out of the combat ring like a toddler.

Jaune: But...

Yang: Jaune you have the skills, and I know you have the strength to do it. I've watched just about everything I can find on you and your family. I'm a fan...

She paused, giving him a soft smile;

Yang: and a friend.

--== Table of Contents ==--

#jaune arc #yang xiao long #professional wrestling #Jaune is part of a wrestling dynasty #been wanting to write/share this forever #the Arc family is THE Valean pro-wrestling family #Youtube

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cinderswife · 3 months

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because i can't go five seconds without thinking about ouatis worldbuilding, here's rose and snow's immediate family! there is so much going on here. infodump under the cut as always <3

(full disclosure, snow and rose's childhood sucked. i watched Iron Claw, a biopic about the wrestling dynasty of the Von Erich family, when i was conceptualizing their dads and the shitty family dynamics from the film twisted with the development of snow and rose i'd already done to create a royally screwed up family. general white and rose red do Not come from a remotely well adjusted family are you kidding me. so. cw about that. darr and eret are doing fine though)

By all the rights of inheritance, Cole's empire should belong to the House of Grimm. After all, it was their family he married into 2,000 years ago. He took his pick of the Princes Grimm (twin crown princes who decided that whoever married for love first would get to be king of Zantine) and became king over the people. It must be understood though that the House of Grimm is descended from the other brother, the Duke of what was then the province of Delinore (long before it was a planet or a star system). Had His Majesty simply died when he was killed, all this could have been avoided. Alas, His Majesty's forays into the idea of immortality and collaboration with a certain vampire would lead to him becoming a star-faring conquering emperor.

This is not a fact known any longer. To the people of the modern era, the House of Grimm is simply his favorite and always has been. The current Grand Duke of the star system duchy of Delinore and Head of the House of Grimm is his heir and that is the way it is and always will be.

John Grimm, the hereditary Grimm father through which Snow and Rose claim their birthright, had a short-lived reign. His own father had died in an unfortunate starship accident when he was young, so he was raised by not his mother, a perpetually stressed woman desperately trying to keep the duchy together, but his uncle, a former military man who was never as good as a soldier as he claimed to have been.

John wanted desperately to join the force but as the only child of his father and His Majesty's future heir, he was forced to train to become Grand Duke instead. This was not pleasing to him, so he made a habit of getting into trouble whenever he could.

As a teen, he took a fancy to a lovely young woman who would later grow into his husband, Eli. Eli was clever with his tongue and understood people in a way that John never quite wrapped his head around. Though he was descended from a far lesser noble house, John saw potential in him as a partner in crime. The two fell madly in love and were wed within months of meeting at the tender ages of 17 and 16.

That was the story spun about them anyways. In truth, it was a shotgun wedding and the two were married to ensure the scandal remained as minimal as possible. Snow and Rose were born several months later to baffled fanfare.

Now, it must be understood that twins have always been auspicious in the House of Grimm. Every generation with twin heirs would find a different way to select which would be the Duke. John elected the easy way: Rose, the older twin by a mere 20 minutes, would be Duchess and Snow, the younger twin, would fulfill his military dreams.

It became quite clear early on that the girls' dispositions were suited for the other's future. Rose was lively and athletic with a lot of fight in her and Snow was clever and calculating with the ability to say whatever she needed to get others to listen. However, John and to a lesser extent Eli were determined that things go exactly as planned.

The girls were raised like military sons, strict and harsh much like John had been. Even Eli, though not as outwardly brutal, was still strict in his teachings of politic and poise. Despite the harsh conditions (or indeed, because of them), the sisters grew close and protective of each other. Rose often bore the brunt of the punishments, stepping in for her sister whenever she could. In turn, Snow would tend to her sister after the fact. Both would run to Doctor Lorenzo whenever they could, more of a father to them than their own two.

When they were sixteen, Snow and Rose were to make their debut into high society before being sent off to their respective academies. As part of this, the day before they were to meet with King Cole himself. Snow's meeting went... fine, really, she just got some kinda weird advice and some really bad vibes off His Majesty. Rose on the other hand came out of that meeting and immediately signed away her birthright to her sister, swapped their papers, and stole away to the military academy. She never said what happened that night, only that Snow would be safer and better off as Grand Duchess.

John and Eli were very disappointed and upset, of course, but things worked out well in the end. Snow proved quickly that she was far better suited to politic than either of her fathers and by the time she was 24 even His Majesty insisted that she become Duchess. And Rose, well, her career in the military catapulted her into living legend status. No one has successfully conquered more planets in His Majesty's name than her (even if, when sufficiently drunk and alone, Rose professes a deep hatred of the king).

They currently live in their family manor on New Constantinople instead of Delinore as when Snow became Duchess she basically kicked them out (and honestly they wanted to go anyways).

As for Darr, well, Snow needed to continue on the family line. Though a romantic as a teen, as soon as she realized she was going to be Duchess she became exceptionally judicial about her suitors. She had ambition and she was not going to let a nagging partner get in the way of that.

Darr Amundsen (also known as Darla or Darrell depending on zer gender at the time) was the fourth child of a middling Marquess. All zer older siblings were deeply unambitious and did little to make the family proud and Darr, a very quiet individual with little skill in politic and a strong desire to get really invested in trains, was supposed to be the one to make it better. Out of desperation, ze decided to sign up for a matchmaking service to see if ze could marry into a greater family.

Well, there's no greater family than the House of Grimm and Snow was quite taken by Darr. Though they aren't properly in love, they make a fantastic team. Darr runs the household of the Eden Castle and raises their son while supporting Snow in her fight for peace and in turn Snow can do many great and wonderful things while wading through the controversy surrounding her ideals.

Unfortunately, Darr does not get on well with Rose. That's fine, Rose insists, really! It's not like she spends a lot of time at home

They currently have one son, Eret! He is three and looks an awful lot like his Aunty Rose. His favorite animals are penguins and snakes, he's obsessed with the ocean, and he's granted a lot of freedom that Snow never got. He's a little rascal and we love him for it <3

He does look up to Aunty Rose a bit too much for Darr and honestly even Snow's comfort. Snow fought hard for her belief in kindness and goodness and while she loves her sister dearly, the destruction Rose has caused is not something she can forgive so easily. Rose is doing her best to try and be a good role model for the kid but she is kind of a disaster when she's away from either the battlefield or cameras.

Ah well, she just learned to knit so the kid gets a lot of fun presents.

#the mechanisms #ouatis #once upon a time in space #mechs ocs #planet's doodles #planet's worldbuilding #also. all these characters die in the wedding day slaughter btw. even Baby Boy. sorry #this turned out a bit bleaker than i'd intended #but i guess that suits the source material

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glitterdragonthegreatprotector · 19 days

Text

I have gone insane. I have no questions yet, so I'm copying the whole list and answering them for Lucifer.

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

A few hours, to maybe a month. It really depends. Has there been a recent cleansing? He's going to sit still for a month. After that passes, he'll have a hard time keeping still.

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

VERY easy. He finds mortal ignorance cute, and will start chuckling over mortals not understanding the universe like he does. Not a malicious or condescending chuckle, mind you. A "Oh, I remember when I was like that. They'll learn that's a silly way of thinking eventually." Loves playing too, best way to get him laughing is to wrestle him.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

He doesn't. He fights sleep with all his might to watch over his family. He can't sleep... any moment not watching for danger is another life lost.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Surprisingly easy, as he knows that he can't judge by someone's surface, if they're offering help. If someone gives off a bad vibe, or has a lot of sin, he'll just be EXTREMELY cautious.

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Again, very easy. All it takes is hurting a child. Then you're his next meal...

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

He has seen kingdoms rise and fall, languages rewrite themselves, and humanity change in unbelievable ways. Laws come and go, with each dying breath of a dynasty.

A part of him still thinks his father's word is law, and still believes his laws are immovable. That part of him, he wants to rip from his chest with his bare claws.

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Seeing siblings play together, certain smells of flowers and honey, cold breezes, lamb chops, and old temples.

...it's a painful feeling, but he feels as though he deserves all the suffering he can get. He enjoys it, but it leaves him wanting to break his ribs, to rip out his still loving heart and tear it up. He will NEVER get that joy back, if he doesn't work for it. Even then, his happiness is eternally perverted. His memory stained and putrid, with rotting blood.

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?

Talking. Playing. Moving. Touching things. Laughing. Smiling. The list of things he was told not to do goes on and on.

As for starting to do... he was simply told to "Be better. Stop making such mistakes."

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

Occasionally, yes. As for if he remembers? He barely remembers what he ate today, and that word is probably in a dead language. He probably said it, when he was trying to understand someone else's language. Like how kids will shout "FUCK!" When they hear it for the first time.

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

...everything will be okay...

Yes, it always haunts him when he has to say this. Especially to children.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

He will ask many questions, and does not care how silly it sounds, when it seems obvious to other people. Only time he doesn't ask questions when he's confused, is when he's also terrified. If he thinks people are in danger, he'll protect first, ask questions later, even if it means sacrificing himself or killing someone he could potentially redeem.

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

He'll roll in rocks and rubble, like a bulky sand bath, scratch himself on a wall like a bear, or get his brothers to groom him.

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

He doesn't really care for clothes, as all he can wear is animal skins. He also doesn't care about looking good. He looks amazing in purple, however. As that's the color he used to be...

What animal do they fear most?

Lions. Not because they're dangerous, but because they remind him of his father.

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

He always speaks like he's reciting a ballad or a poem. All from his head though, so think theater kid improv.

What makes their stomach turn?

Overwhelming failure, and mutilated children.

Are they easily embarrassed?

No. There is not an ounce of self respect in his body.

What embarrasses them?

Being forced to take care of himself.

What is their favorite number?

He doesn't have one, as it would seem wrong to him to pick a favorite out of infinity. If he were to pick, it would be 2, as he loves his brother Michael, who was the second angel. Lucifer always did everything he could to be second to his brother, elevating him above himself.

Everything changed when he fell from grace...

The reverence is still there, but stained in blood.

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Kinda?

He'd explain familial love as a duty and a burden at times. That it's a responsibility etched in blood, that sometimes feels like you can only be freed from through spilling it. But with some family, you will love them so much you will spill gallons of your own, and they'll hate you for it, because they'll wish they did the same first. As the way with family is. It's your responsibility to die for them. Ingrained in you. Making any betrayal from them poison your blood.

Platonic love is finding someone outside of your family, that you feel just as strongly for. They are the family, whose blood is not your own, but you would spill your blood just the same for them. You might even trust them more than family, as protecting you is not their birthright, but they protect you nonetheless. You are supposed to feel inclined to do the same. People you platonically love are kin, unfortunately fated to only know you by chance instead of default at birth.

...then romance is Asmodeus’s department- He just knows it has to do with mates.

Why do they get up in the morning?

He is needed, and important. Much to his dismay. Had it his way, he would never wake up again, and no one would miss him. Alas, he is a beloved leader despite his flaws, and he still has a family that loves and depends on their big brother.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Depends, honestly. If he's jealous over something silly with his siblings, he'll be over dramatic to annoy them.

But if he's jealous of someone for their looks, power, social standing, or even their home, it will manifest in a "holier than thou" way. He'll judge and mock the person he's jealous of, till they stop taking everything for granted. He'll still feel jealous after the person starts appreciating their blessings of having a loving home, or not being plagued by genocide. But he'll feel a little better knowing it isn't wasted.

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

He is only comfortable talking about it with kids, and it is always in a "puberty sucks, mating is painful for us, here's what to expect when your hormones start changing" type of way. He is great at the Birds and The Bees talk, as he likes learning about sex in theory.

He usually has the talk with Lambttens during or after mating season. As this is when they'll have the most questions. There is no beating around the bush, no storks or cabbage patch babies. Lambttens don't know what a stork or a cabbage is-

Give it to the kids straight. Tell them to wait when they older to they don't tear their own flesh. Let them know to warn lucifer of creeps that somehow became demons.

What are their thoughts on marriage?

None. Zip. Zero. Nada.

He forgets it exists until either:

A. Someone he knows is getting married.

B. He just remembered a culture fact about a civilization he used to visit as an angel, and the fact just so happened to be about marriage.

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Used to love flying...

But then he liked chariots and boats.

Once those fell out of style, he LOVED steam engines.

What causes them to feel dread?

The smell of blood, or holy light. So he's constantly feeling dread!

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

Depends... truth is important when keeping people safe.

...but he'll lie about himself being okay, and he'll tell you that you'll be fine even when he knows that isn't true. Better to die with hope, than die in fear.

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

He tries, but he shoots himself in the foot when he starts saying he doesn't deserve the same liberties. He's kind, forgiving, and unconditionally loving!

...to everyone but himself.

Lucifer is just Jesus with imposter's syndrome.

Who do they most regret meeting?

His father. He wishes he was never born.

Who are they the most glad to have met?

...everyone else. The existence of other gods, man, beasts, and even plants made his existence a little more bearable.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

He usually trauma dumps as an ice breaker, but that's to get someone to know they're not alone when they suffer, and lucifer is there to be a shoulder to cry on.

In a fluffier setting, when speaking to mortal kids, he pretends to be a sad, lonely monster, that wants a friend. He then calls himself Luci the Goat-Cat, and makes up a wild story about how his mother was a goat, and his father was a cat that had forbidden love (no two stories about this is identical, he just goes along with guesses. "Yes, my parents stole a rocket ship to go to Mars, to escape the farmer! How did you know? I thought my parents never made the news!").

Other than that, he tends to be straightforward, blunt, or makes jokes at his own expense.

Could they be considered lazy?

No. He is the exact opposite of lazy, PLEASE HOLD HIM DOWN SO HE CAN NAP-

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

He is 18,243,004,673 as of current (going off of our year. He'll be 18,243,004,674 in September.), and he still feels guilty over things he did when he was 12. Safe so say:

FUCK YES, HE WILL NEVER LET GO

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

YES. He loves seeing other people happy, and will gladly lay his giant head in their lap and listen for HOURS. He'll learn everything on the subject, and talk about ancient knowledge related to it. If your mortal, he might even bring up an ancestor of yours that he knew that was also into something similar.

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

He actively walks the other direction without realizing it. Flirt to his face, he will take you literally.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven~"

"Yes it did, I still remember screaming and crying for my father... I can still feel the wind, forcing air underneath my skin where it's loose on my back wounds..."

"...O-OH."

"...I'm such a terrible person, I should have never had wings in the first place..."

*runs the other direction as this did NOT go as planned*

This man has never been interested in mating, and has completely forgotten that people can and will be sexually and romantically attracted to his Pathetic Wet Meow Meow personality and his Daddy Issues and Catholic Guilt swagger.

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Whatever he needs to remember, he writes down in blood on a wall. No walls avaliable, he trusts his brain to keep the knowledge, only to be betrayed by his greymatter.

His siblings will be more likely to remember things than he is, since they actually sleep.

What memory do they revisit the most often?

...the aftermath of him falling from grace.

The screams...

The burning of entire civilizations...

How be begged to be the only one hurt...

How he begged to be beaten instead of his friends being slaughtered like cattle...

How people called out for him...

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

Surprisingly easy, as long as he can eventually reach them and help them redeem themselves.

If the flaws involve mental illness, however, he will simply give finger guns in solidarity, before giving personal tips.

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

...VERY. Everyone can be redeemed, except for himself, who committed the first sin of being a 12 year old boy that wanted a little appreciation for his art and for humanity to be healthy. What a monster/s

How do they feel about children?

Head empty. Only baby.

He LOVES kids and would die for them if he could physically die. Anyone who hurts a child, is his meal.

How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

...it's one of the few things he lives for. He has to protect the family he has with him, and save the family that slaughters his kind...

His own brother is archenemy, but he may STILL be in there... somewhere...

...right?

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

You would have to brief him on what a sexuality is, really quick, and he would still struggle a little, using extremely outdated terms... like the definitions were in the Library of Alexandria, outdated.

If that doesn't work, he'd just explain that mating is gross, and he loves everyone equally, and that it feels weird and wrong to love someone more than he does his neighbor.

He'll figure out what acearo means. He'll get there. He is simultaneously a little kid and an old grandpa when it comes to teaching him new terms.

Pst pst pst minor lucifer lore pst pst pst @endstar @sweet-and-insane @jackpot-library @fizzy-sodacan @blxsscd-x-fxrsakcn

#fnaftale #underverse #fnaf au #undertale au #underfazverse #lucifer #ask game #lore post

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