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thelikesoffinn · 4 months

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hello - hope you're doing great! I love your analysis, and I wanted to ask about something I've been thinking fanfic wise but also applicable to real life (I think).

So Astarion gets paired a lot with Tavs who also have tragic past experiences (hard to be at his level of tragedy, but some get close). Which is all well and good, cause I see how writing these characters and reading about them is cathartic to many, but I also see plot-wise, it makes it "easier" for him to connect with Tav in a way, kindred souls and all that.

My Tav's background is one of someone who either had a fairly good and regular life, and, if trauma occured, it's been healthily overcome. So at the beginning of the BG3 story she's actually at the end of her own initial "character" arc.

Now my issue is, can Astarion connect with someone who has no idea at all of what he went through? My idea is that's he'd infantilize her, or openly antagonise her (in his charming way) because she's got no right to understand (especially with how he thinks it's fine to be racist and hurt the weak in the first act).

And she'd be understanding and wanting to help and all, but how can people with no/little traumatic experiences connect with those who went through hell, even with the best intentions? It's a dynamic I'd like to explore, because I've seen it played in real life a few times.

Sorry for the poem!

Hello, flower! Thank you so much, I'm glad that you enjoyed the analysis ❤️

As for your question: Eh, I do see why that dynamic is a rather difficult one. People who've survived through a lot of traumata tend to be somewhat hesitant and guarded in front of those who had normal lives at the best of times, and we all know that Astarion rarely has a "best of times", especially early in the game.

Infantilising them is something I definitely see with him. He's the type to do that with anyone anyway, but especially so with those he considers "sheltered". And sheltered is likely something he inevitably will consider Tav, as that is often the case with those who experienced trauma.

Trauma tends to age and harden you, in a way, so oftentimes people who simply grew up normally, with normal ups and downs, are viewed as "sheltered" or "spoiled" by those who didn't, even if that wasn't necessarily the case. That label isn't used or assigned maliciously, and it's simply based on the fact that other people's "normal" seems like the very best to someone who had it worse.

I can also see a huge amount of antagonism, yes, but how it shows will depend on when your story is set.

Is it while he's still dependent on Tav? Then I think he'd try to refrain from being more antagonistic towards them than necessary, since he needs to stay on their good side. So, he'd likely stick with his base-line arseholeishness, if a bit more intense at times. You know, in a sense that you side eye him and wonder if he just actually insulted you or if he's still joking around.

But if he's not dependent on them? Oh boy. Yeah, very likely that he'd be extremely mean and Tav would definitely 100% know that he means everything he says, even when it's uttered with a smile. Think how he talks to the Gur hunter in act 1 because let's be honest…that was far from subtle.

Astarion as a whole doesn't take kindly to anyone prodding his weak spots, albeit he mellows a bit towards Tav over the course of the story, and if would be even worse with "sheltered" Tav. He would likely flip his shit really hard and become extremely cruel with them, staying on their good side be damned because how dare they prod where they have no business being?

It's something I've seen at work before, and let me tell you: It's never a pretty sight. Many people who experienced trauma usually don't want to hurt others - quite the contrary, a lot of them would rather sacrifice themselves before watching anyone else get hurt like they were - but that doesn't mean they're not good at it. Precisely because they're often so hypervigilant, they have a talent in picking out your weak spots and if you test them enough, oh boy. They'll hit them with such aim and grace, you'll find yourself reeling. And that's the super sweet and kind clients, not the Astarions.

Here it's important to mention that the things people say in those situations are rarely what they really believe. It's mostly is just a well aimed assassination of your soft spots to get you to back off and leave them be.

So "sheltered" Tav will have to be extremely careful regarding any sore spots if they don't want to be hit by the full force of protective-malice.

Does that mean Astarion and your Tav won't be able to bond? Aabsolutely not, but it will be a tad bit difficult because he'll likely take a lot longer to open up and their bond will have to be built entirely from scratch. The shared understanding of their trauma can’t function as a temporary foundation – temporary because a bond entirely based on [shared] trauma will eventually become instable, if not fortified by other things – so they’ll have to put in a lot of work to even get to having a solid foundation to build on.

I'll give you a bit of a general rundown on how I was taught to tackle clients like that, maybe any of that will be helpful for you!

So, firstly: "Sheltered" Tav will need to be careful and understanding and they'll have to be able to take a blow and live with it if they accidentally step to close too early.

Important to note: They'll have to be able to take a blow but they can't be too lenient either.

Astarion seems like a person who's attached to 'respect'. Not in the 'respect your elders' way, but in the sense that he treats those he respects a lot better than those he doesn't. It's the nobility’s definition of respect - some "deserve" it and some don't and who is who is entirely based on personal understanding - so it's very in line with his background.

So, while your Tav will need to be able to take a hit, they'll need to know when to call him out on his bullshit. If you let Astarion walk all over you, he will eventually lose all respect and then this is a lost cause. Don't let him push you around.

If he's being too cruel, don't be cruel back, but definitely call him out on it and let him know that he can always ask you to stop prodding but you will not stand around and let him insult you.

Be understanding, but don't be a doormat.

Then, in order to get someone to open up, you'll have to have a lot of patience. Don't demand anything, don't force anything. Every question you ask has to be careful and phrased in a way that won't corner them, which can be really difficult in casual conversation. So, mishaps can and will likely happen, which is great material for a story anyway, so that's great! (Not so great at work though, haha.)

In case of "sheltered" Tav, it's probably best if they wait for him to come to them. Listen when he rants, listen to the tiny things he mentions and if you ask questions, make sure they directly relate to what he's told you just then.

So, if he talks about Cazador essentially making him choose between eating putrid rats or getting beaten, a question like: "Did he do that a lot?" or "Was it always those two options?" could potentially be alright because the red string is easily visible for both parties. Astarion can tell why you would ask something like that and he can follow your line of thought easily.

But a question like: "What else did he do to you?" or "Did he do other things as well?" would probably have his defences going up. It's too broad, too unspecific, and how is that any of your business anyway? What is this, an interrogation? An interview so that you can ghost write his sad memoirs? Back off.

While a question like: "How exactly did those dinners go?" or "Beaten? How?" is too specific. You're practically asking him to relive a painful moment in great detail for your own "enjoyment". Why else would you want to know? Why else would you ask how exactly he'd been hurt and humiliated, if not for that? Maybe you were planning to do the same to him. He won't let you. The past is the past. Let. It. Rest.

So, as you can tell, it's basically playing question-hot-foot!

But even if your Tav should cross the lines in that regard every once in a while - it happens, every question is a gamble - it'll eventually be fine. The closer they get, the easier it will be to ask questions, because he'll realise that he can actually trust them.

The one word I would really really avoid - and I cannot stress this enough - is 'understand'. God never use it. Tav, omit it from your vocabulary, you'll never "understand" anything ever again!

"I understand what you went though was horrible, but/and/however…" - No, you really do not. You can't understand, can't even imagine what he's faced over the years so never pretend that you do.

"I won't pretend to understand what you went through, but I want to/you can trust me/I can still listen." - Always said with kindness, but that one really is nothing but an empty platitude, at best. Hearing someone say that they don't understand you so directly is never really encouraging either.

"I just want to understand you." - Great, but you don't need to know the barest parts of a person's soul to be able to understand them. If you can't do it without that, maybe you shouldn't. And, all in all, this phrasing of the last one feels really iffy anyway, personally speaking, because it has a very manipulative edge to it. 'Hey I'm just overstepping your boundaries because I want to know you and understand you better. It's all for you..." and blegh. I hate that one, but that might be totally personal so please feel entirely free to ignore this paragraph.

Anyway, as you can see…never "understand", even if it’s just meant to encourage him. Just don't. I've seen clients who asked to be transferred to a different social worker or ended up leaving completely because someone used one of those lines, so I'd really strongly advise against them.

Instead, opt for things like "I'll listen to whatever you want to say." or "Can you explain it to me?" because that way you're not lying to his face and you're leaving everything up to him. He gets to decide where this conversation goes and, more importantly, how far it goes. Not an interview, not an interrogation, but a conversation that he controls.

And well then, flower, that’s it! Of course, there’s a lot more to it, but we’d still be here by the time Baldur’s Gate 8 is released if I went over every tiny thing, but I hope this was enough of an overview to help you build your story 😊 If you end up sharing it, don’t be shy to let me know, I’d be excited to check it out because, as you said, it’s a really interesting dynamic that isn’t explored as much as it should be. It’s a difficult dynamic, but it is so rewarding to write, read and experience. I wish you all the best ♥

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate #bg3 tav #tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #bg3 astarion #bg3 asks #astarion x reader #ascended astarion

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sorrelpaws · 2 years

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s6e5 spoilerz!!

actual post talking about the episode YIPPEE!!! I LIKED IT!!! for the most part! i’m gonna start with the junk i didn’t like, cause there’s not much of it and i need to get it out of my system. for starters the erm. incest plotline. i’m honestly not sure why the writers have such a tendency towards this stuff. usually they seem to be pretty smart with reusing jokes or plot threads, but this just. like aside from being uncomfortable and weird to watch it just makes me think “do you not have anything better?”. why is this the safest plot line to fall back on in these recent seasons? i also hated the tiktok references at the beginning. i think i generally just hate any sort of pop culture references because they tend to become dated very easily/quickly while also doing nothing for the episode, aside from ruining any kind of immersion. AND MORTYYYYY justice for my boy. they are excluding him on purpose !! WHY!!!! i can understand he wouldn’t have worked very well with this episode, but this season seems to really favor either Rick or Literally Any Other Smith. but ummm next week’s promo had morty in it so im holding out hope guys! here’s how morty can still win!

ok anyway now that i’m no longer harboring any deep rooted hatred... THE ANIMATION!!!!! it was very cool, especially in fight scenes. something i noticed a lot was rick’s hair and suit/tie moving as he twists and turns, and i thought that was such a nice detail. it’s really simple but it added lots for me. AND THE JUMPS!!! i love his extending limbs, especially near the end of the episode where he jumps around on a bunch of boxes and moves kind of like a slinky, SOO neat. my only gripe is with the cold open, where he eats his noodles with tube arms. i dunno, felt kinda weird and unnecessary. small thing though. summer and morty in the beginning were also surprisingly endearing, and it has made me realize my desperation to see more of those two hanging out.

OH BUT JERRY AND RICK’S DYNAMIC!!!! i loved them in this episode, and i liked how it was kind of continuing s5e5′s development(kinda of neat that they’re both the 5th ep of their respective seasons). they’re both kinda warming up to each other, and it’s cool to watch this petty, sarcastic and, at times, surprisingly functional friendship. like when they talk in the vent, jerry is genuinely upset and rick offers some mild level of comfort by trying to crack a joke. and when they find the monster and jerry says he’s not sure what’s going on, rick just explains it!!!!! which okay yeah is also just to feed the audience necessary info, but i think the fact that rick doesn’t throw any insults really shows his development(also autistic infodump moment teehee). kind of off topic, but the scene w/ jerry’s second transformation made me wonder what his parents think of rick. like they see/ know he does some weird wacky shit, but like ... how much do they really know? or care? from what we’ve seen of them, they appear... pretty neutral. “oh well our son’s father in law is a scientist, no biggie,”. which is interesting to me. kinda wanna see some proper lengthy interactions between the grandparents. also rick joking(???) about fucking jerry’s mom made me laugh. okay alsooo i’m pretty sure i saw someone mention this, but in order for rick’s “you will make a friend” fortune to come true he would also have to consider jerry his friend as well B)) very cute.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #jerry smith #ALL THINGS CONSIDERED this ep was good #if i close my eyes and whisper sweet comforting phrases to myself maybe i can pretend that incst isnt the core of yet ANOTHER episode #the phrases in question: morty will play a significant role in next weeks episode.we'll get r&m interactions #etc etc #spoilers

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monkiebois · 1 year

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I bet if ever the kids get sick, which I suppose wouldn't happen too often, either Wukong would be the panicking "OMG my poor babey" or the totally chill parent while Macaque panics

oooooh boi i had fun with this one.

Hehe so lets take a look at the parents

one is a seven times over immortal who's only family in EONS has been an immortal god. he might have been a scholar at one time but in modern days she has NO IDE what kind of new diseases or treatments there are, now she could look it all up but that would send her into a 5am spiral down google.

"NEZHA HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT-" "FATHER PLEASE ITS 5AM YOU DONT NEED TO WORRY ABOUT EVERY OBSCURE AND RARE ILLNESS GOOGLE SHOWS YOU"

Meanwhile, there's Macaque, he is immortal yeah, I also hc when he was on Ffm he helped take care of the young ones but those were all either monkey DEMONS or regular monkeys.

Ofc bc of this he knows how to take care of bb Mk best and why he wants to be his babysitter so badly in the beginning. (look he needs something to do other than plotting revenge. he needs a fucking life and someone other than his ex-(turned partner again) in his life)

then again just like wukong he has no idea what new ailments or diseases have sprouted in the time hes been dead and alive again. he's more aware then wukong is but still, he has no clue if what the kids got is either a common cold, a stomach bug, or something that will end up killing the kids (it wont)

Nezha is immortal but not as immortal as wukong

Mei is mortal-but does live longer bc of the whole dragon thing (she might be immortal bc of the samadhi fire but i have no clue)

Mk is also a mortal(?????) no one actually knows bc of the whole "swk's powers" thing. so its like is he????? did he get ur immortalities or wat????

but because of this Macaque and wukong basically have the same reaction.

they freeze up, they panic for a moment. wukong emmedialty fears the worst and macaque just has no fucking clue what to do, even with mk he just doesnt know what to do. Macaque wants to help but what if he does something wrong? what if he makes it worse? what if he hurts them? what if he makes the little one cry? what ifwhatifwhatifwhatif.

ofc nezha is always there to snap those two out of it, even if hes sick. he'll throw a pillow at them and tell them to snap the fuck out of it. then the younger ones start throwing pillows too and suddenly it's a pillow fight and ohmygod their all idiots/ pos.

sooo yea macaque and wukong panic for a moment but once they snap out of it they do the normal sick stuff but one rule nezha has set in place "do not under any circumstances google it unless i tell you and I swear to the gods if you so much as think about using bing instead"

when Mk and mei were young and wukong and macaque were new to this whole thing they would take the kids to the doctor every time despite nezha insisting its nothing serious and that they just need something to eat, some warm blankets and some rest.

after nezha was proven right time and time again they listened to him finnaly and now they only go if nezha deems it necessary.

after the intitial panic though wukong SPOILS THEM. she will give them anything and everything they need and desire. she will faun over them and make sure they want for nothing while sick, sometimes macaque and nezha needs to stop wukong from getting/making something obscure bc one of the kids in there feverish state requested it.

i cannot tell you how many plushies mei has collected because she was sick and wukong jumped on his nimbus and came back with three in hand and a big smile on her face.

Mac is the more calm one after the panic, hes in the kitchen making something for them to eat (because if wukong tries to put candy or random fruit in the chicken noodle soup at mk/meis request again he will be the sick one) hes doing the laundry with the sick kids clothes, he's taking their temperature. (because wukong will not understand how it works) wukong is the emotional support and macaque is the one who gets the kids what they need while nezha guides the two. please he might be the older brother but they're the parents here.

Mk usually needs someone to snuggle with when he's sick, he doesn't like being alone when he's sick so one of them, usually mei. will snuggle up with him and hold him. even when he's older he grabs one of them and drags them to bed.

Mei is actually the one who got sick the most, and its because of the samadhi fire ring inside of her. its not so much sick as it is a form of heat stroke. of course its not as fatal to her but when she was young, even with a seal over the ring that wukong placed after the fire her little and young body couldnt control the heat of the ring and she would heat up much more then the average dragon. she was burning hot to the touch, wukong and nezha were the only ones able to touch her because she would get too hot. this was one of the only times wukong wouldn't panic because he knows the cause and how to treat it. they basically run a bath of cold water and they cast some ice spells. not normal ice that would melt immediately. so instead they keep filling the tub with magic ice, don't give her anything hot to eat and she'll be fine within the day. when mei gets older (24) these heat strokes slow down more and more and now that mei constantly uses her fire to beat up bad guys the excess magic buildup that caused the strokes no longer happen. She's barely gotten another stroke like that in the past seven years, it's only happened like three times.

Nezha....you'd think because he has the braincell he'd take care of himself better "I'm fine" "I'm fine "I have things to do, paperwork to finish" "(some random god) requested a meeting and I have to-"

"go to bed"

If it was up to nezha he would be efficient during his sick time but nooooo, the only way to get him to fuckin relax is to throw his little siblings at him, they pull some puppy dog eyes shit and then hold him and they all fall asleep together.

one thing that happens all the time after a sick day is that everyone crawls into the same bed with the sick one in the middle and they fall asleep in one big cuddle pile.

#anon ask #consequencesau💫#six eared macaque #liu er mihou #monkey king #sun wukong #mei #long xiaojiao #mk #qi xiaotian #nezha #spring gardens #shadowpeaches

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aprillikesthings · 2 months

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ONE MORE TONIGHT because I remember I really like this episode :D

s2 ep5 White Out

will I hit the image limit with this one

EDIT: nope I post it early by accident, which means I have to reblog it anyway.

damn right, and I love how often Entrapta mentions this--that all experiments/research end with you learning SOMEthing even if it's not what you were hoping/looking for

Anyway they're in an icy wasteland of sorts and Entrapta is researching some First Ones' stuff under the ice and also there's some kind of big worm-like monster outside. All before the intro music.

Does She-Ra not feel the cold or what

I refuse to screenshot Scorpia's attempt at asking out Catra it's too painful

I knew it was the same thing that fucked with the robots and She-Ra in Dryl!!

I love how I can remember that this episode is the one where Adora acted SUPER violent and then really dumb and drunk but I couldn't remember WHY

but yeah telling this to Catra was A Mistake

Entrapta: "also she got very floppy"

FLOPPY?!

Side note, but it makes sense Catra hates it up there more than Scorpia or Entrapta; cats have a higher body temperature than humans. But wait, scorpions are cold-blooded? Maybe Catra's just a whiner about being cold. (So am I.)

I mean yeah Catra's being a dick here BUT THEN:

It took me WAY too many times to get that literal split-second of her reaction to Adora's voice before she gets herself back under control. Her ears even do a wiggle.

Look I know they were setting us up for these two to be endgame the whole time. But it still amazes me how much they made it so, SO OBVIOUS in all these little ways they could've skipped and didn't. The little ear wiggle and her tiny moment of shock? They didn't have to put it there, and they did. They could've just made her immediate reaction fury or frustration. But nope.

And we see her eyes narrow in a really close-in shot, like she has to take a second and remember they're on opposite sides, before Catra turns around with her usual cocky expression.

but also look at Entrapta's face lol

I love it when they make her look just a little deranged. Because she is.

I do wonder the extent to which everyone else is like "why are these two so obsessed with each other" (I think people comment on that later?)

HOW AM I JUST NOW NOTICING THESE TWO ARE NARRATIVE FOILS they are, right? right?? or am I just reading too much into both of them having unrequited crushes

Bow: "You don't understand the forces you're messing with!" Entrapta: "I know! That's the fun of it!"

augh I couldn't get the shot of Catra's surprised face

yeah I'm probably gonna go over the image limit on this one

THAT'S NOT GOOD

oh boy

Virus!She-Ra: *tries to hurt her own friends* Catra: "This is the greatest thing that's ever happened" Virus!She-Ra: *hears her, turns around, and runs towards Catra*

BIG MISTAKE

I can't screenshot it, but holy shit you really see the degree to which She-Ra normally isn't trying to actually hurt Catra any more than necessary, because of how violent she is when she's possessed by the virus. Like, this version of her would in fact just straight-up stab Catra or chop off her head or something. Normally She-Ra settles for punches or self-defense--her goal isn't hurting Catra per se but trying to stop the harm she's doing.

But this version of She-Ra? Would do a murder, no problem

that is 100% an appropriate reaction!!

Anyway Scorpia manages to separate her from her sword, and Adora goes back to normal size and not possessed. And is out cold.

okay but did you mean for that to sound so suggestive, Catra? did you?? do you even KNOW??

(...did I just get a plot bunny for the kind of fic that would get me hate mail)

(I've written stuff with a major archive warning before and I could do it again)

speaking of ships eheheheheh

Poor Scorpia is just like "do we have to have your ex around even as a weapon" and is also I think just uncomfortable with how nasty Catra is being

But also Catra's face here is too good

I just imagine Hordak being like, "oh YOU'RE obsessed with the blonde girl, too??? And I thought Shadow Weaver had a problem."

Edit: guess who accidentally hit the wrong buttons on her keyboard and posted it. Anyway continued in the reblog.

#april rewatches spop #white out

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blood-starved-beast · 7 months

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Youl ever think about how when Mai and Acxa had a change of heart, they helped their bfs escape from a prison, turning on their best friends in the process, and the boys were in awe that their badass knife gfs did it and how proud the girls were of their bfs for changing the Galra/Fire Nation to something of unity, not hatred or is it just me.

P.S. I love you!

See while I understand the viewpoint of comparing Mai to Acxa, there's a fundamental difference between them that should be noted and it's a consequence of how their respective arcs are constructed.

Acxa's arc is specifically written outside of a necessary romance. The point of resolution - her redemption and understanding of the empire being wrong is key to her arc - regardless of whether or not Keith is factored into the equation. Keith in the Grudge, where her arc is most significantly highlighted, is a macguffin at best. He can be replaced with anyone or anything plot important and the narrative of that episode does not change. Acxa still will confront Zethrid cause she now understands that she is worthy of change, and by proxy, she wants to see change in Zethrid, who despite everything is her friend. This is willingness to see the possibility of change or lack of it rather, was why she initially "gave up" on Zethrid and Ezor before. They were stuck in their ways in Acxa's mind, and much like Acxa herself she sees them as immovable products of the Galra war machine. That changed in the Grudge. Keith helped with that change by being a model, and Veronica helped her see the light, but in the end the change was Acxa's own and that's significant.

Mai by contrast, her arc doesn't necessarily touch upon the Fire Nation as a regime, but she is aware of its problems - that's what presumably she and Zuko talked about in the cell at the Boiling Rock if I'm remembering correctly. But ultimately her stand to Azula is defined by standing up to Azula's control and abuse, and by lesser proxy, the Fire Nation as a whole. While there are similarities to Acxa - both were subordinates to a higher power in their regimes, the arcs are different. Mai is showing that not only does she care about someone - Zuko - that care is more significant than tolerating abuse. This is significant for Mai, who's been highlighted by her lack of care of many things (a coping mechanism for the shit she had to deal her whole life, but even then, Mai is nobility, and her growth differs in that key area from Acxa, the child soldier bred in the fringes of the empire).

I feel like I'm not talking about it to the best of my ability, and ngl I am a bit sick atm, but yeah. While there are some similarities as you pointed out - they do end superficially. Acxa is a poor child soldier whose arc is more Zuko esque in development - and this reflects how she engages with Keith. Keith, who is thoroughly sexualized and turned into a damsel in that iconic episode. He is the macguffin in her and Zethrid's arcs. Zuko retains a level of autonomy and specific personal importance to Mai in the Boiling Rock that makes Mai's arc markedly different from Acxa's - and part of it is due to Acxa being a person with very low cognitive empathy normally and a distant relationship with Keith furthermore, which Mai has no issue with and is in fact, Zuko's current girlfriend. If that makes sense.

Thank you for the ask and sorry that this is messy, again I am not feeling all that well so that's the excuse I can give for it. Feel free to send me another ask if you want more elaboration on that regard.

#d asks #Anonymous #Acxa #atla Mai #vld #atla #my meta #kacxa #atla maiko #like Keith's arc is notably ass in vld in a way that poorly written LI is done in many shows even if he's the major character #Acxa is the center of the show there in that moment at least #which is different #but Zuko is the deuteragonist in atla #and his arc is ultimately center there #and that colors Mai's arc by proxy differently if that makes sense?

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minniepetals · 10 months

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i’ve read lots of fics. from the very emm unorganised storyline, to perfecto storyline. or the messed up vocabulary/grammars to the most AI-like vocab and grammar fics. or the fluffiest fics to the most disgusting/ disturbing fics - i’ve read it all throughout my reading fanfics journey-

and i must say that cmar is really quiet the disturbing one- no hate though seriously, i just read all the genre and appreciate the story as it’s the art of literature in language and story. i love literature btw and right now pursuing my degree in this field.

thus im here just to share my two cents, that cmar is really quiet near to the masterpiece. why quiet near? because i have to wait till this piece of story finish- to comprehend the whole storyline and the ending. eheks- not doing research don worry, i just here learning to analyse since i have class that i learned how to analyse a poem/ stories etc. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ something akin to review ?? yes. and my prof said that to be a great writer you have to get feedback from readers- and i love you, ergo you know what i mean right ;)

what is disturbing? the character development. mc’s character quiet disturbing as she’s been through a lot of abusive past. also she lives is criminal environment, dark and vicious, thus i understand why she’s act like how she is. also, i like it how she stands up for herself even though she’s broken. she’s really strong for that even though i might say it’s 50-50 she’s strong yet she’s broke - so that’s a whole lot of a person could endure but she had it all.

what is more, the antagonists characters, her father, leehyun, karl, kihyun, etc- lots of them, like really lots- and honestly? i can’t keep track on them, and confused between these characters and their bad deeds. and i am so so sorry that sometimes i keep skipping some parts,thereby after awhile i go back and re read it again to understand the plot better-

sometimes i feel like, the focus on throwback were too much?? but somehow i feels like it’s necessary because the flashback will justify the current action why the characters do that. right?? but is there any other way to write it so that the readers don’t feel like to skip the part?? i’ve been meaning to ask that - welp it can be a question in my next class . :3

for the boys (our tannies) there’s not much i can say though, because there’s not much exposure on them for these few chapters- thus, im hoping in future chapters maybe?? well that’s up to you ;)

overall, i really hope that you take this as a compliment im so sorry if i misled or something but i am really said this as a compliment. because, i had this one assessment and i really tried hard to write something that out of my comfort zone. i was trying to write something like this for my assessment but my prof said that i don’t quiet reach there yet- thus i just opted to write something small and sad and not quiet like this, a bit shame on me but still got an A so yeah- ㅋㅋ

thereby, i really speak highly of you writing cmar. because it’s really fun reading it !! btw thanks for the update on new chapter <3

take care and stay healthy ❤️

asdfghjkl thank you for using your pursuit for literature and looking at my work through an analytical standpoint lmao. it's honestly so great to hear insight from the perspective of a reader. one thing i'd definitely like to note on is your point on the antagonists. i completely understand with just skipping over a few things when it comes to them, which is honestly fine lmao, i tend to do that when i'm ready other stuff as well. i'm not sure how i can write it in a way where you wouldn't feel like skipping through some stuff to be honest. y/n's traumas are highlighted through these antagonists and i guess when it comes to cmar, it just isn't your typical romantic fanfiction stuff. whereas many fics focuses on their y/n and the character they're writing the fanfic based on, or they just mainly focus on the boys in general, cmar's focus is on y/n and her trauma.

i guess you can say in a way, it's less fanfiction and more story-like, since there are insights into these antagonists, as well as y/n and her people, her reapers, instead of the main focus being on mending the relationship between y/n and the boys.

i do see that i definitely should incorporate more moments with the boys. next chapter focuses on one of the guys so you'll get that there.

all in all, i enjoy writing cmar so much, as difficult as it is, and having this part of the work (your analysis) is really nice and refreshing, so thank you for that 💛

#anon #fics 🤍#cmar asks #cmar: 24 #luna asks

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deusvervewrites · 1 year

Note

Out of curiosity, may I ask why you hate the war arc? I can’t remember anything particularly egregious about it myself but it has also been a while since I’ve read it.

The War Arc was simultaneously too long and rushed. Too long because it dragged on and on and on, and rushed because the ending was like, a single chapter. Shigaraki and the League escaped offscreen. In a narrated montage.

It pulled a fuckton of deus ex machina straight out of its ass thanks to the four moth timeskip preceding it, like Togata suddenly having his Quirk again, or Midoriya having Float. Yeah, we don't get to see the moment Midoriya unlocked Nana's Quirk. That feels like a big fucking moment that we never got!

Then there's how many characters got fridged super hard. The worst example of this is Midnight, whose death has so far had no impact on literally anything. She died offscreen, got a single panel of mourning, and now Ashido is pissed because a Generic Villain gave a Generic Monologue about how he had fun killing her because he is a Generic Bad Guy. That came several arcs later, by the way. We were stuck with a single panel for several arcs and now we have "Ashido is kind of pissed." What a legacy. Think about some actually good character deaths and the impact they leave and my rage is not only understandable but necessary.

And they brought back All For One. A Villain that bores me. And to do it they had to write Shigaraki out of the plot for a while to make way for TWO fucking All For Ones! Oh boy it's getting worse! Like yes Evil is boring and banal, but a fictional character shouldn't be!

The pacing was bad, the reveals sucked, and the status quo didn't even fucking change. The War Arc literally meant nothing. The only long-term impacts from this arc where from the epilogue arc where AFO breaks out of Tartarus. Everything that happened in Jaku meant nothing, except that a bunch of Heroes we didn't know retired. Oh and Death Arms but fuck him.

#asks #meta

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mikeellee · 1 year

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Twitter showed me sone terrible takes on AM and Izu, nothing new here. But here I'm to rant about this.

I have to say....I get it. No, really, I do. When people make fics where AM is either malicious or too dumb to live...I get why rhey they are doing this...I get where they formed this wrong idea.

For example, when we had a fic where AM is racist towards quirkless- note how those fics skew away from AM being quirkless himself- is bc in canon we never had an in depth on AM's life.

Was his childhood rough or easier? Did he always wanted to be a hero or was a fateful meeting with Nana that lead to his career?

Yeah we don't know. So I get why people would make fics where he is racist towards quirkless bc is easier and....the fic writer can prop up fanon dadzawa "I don't need my quirk to be a hero" (forgetting canon Aizawa usea his quirk 100%)

But ok...let's go to another type of fics. "AM is too stupid to live" and YES. I get this one. It's the basic plot where AM own stupid allows Izu to fall from grace and be a villain ...

And while I do have issues with AM's canon intelligence here (not about if he can do math or science) we would have to take in account the intelligence of every staff in UA.

I mean....BK is clearly hostile with Izu ( he doesn't hide at all) and tried to kill him several times. Please, HE HAS TRIED TO KILL THE MC MORE THAN SHIGARAKI (Like shigaraki is the villain and all that, but aside the war arc...he never tried to kill Izu or call him "useless" hey....guess who does it?) OR ANY VILLAIN! Why AM can't at very least make him stay away from Izu?

Answer: Hori and his love for the most useless and hateful character I ever come across.

The same question goes to all teachers. No one in UA tries to do anything- Aizawa gives no fucks to Izu and others and the others teachers, while I do think they don't care that much...don't have screentime- I remember seeing a post saying how maybe no one steps in bc "kids with powers can be rough"

Ok fair. But this is not the boys being boys. This is BK being 100% hostile and murderous with his victim.

And even if it was boys being boys...they won't step in? If Izu and Sero fight....UA will shrugs?

I do write fics where either UA is a terrible school milking on AM's good name or is trying to do god but there are forces blocking them.

And all the while I think AM being a teacher in UA- he has no qualifications but lets be real...Aizawa shouldn't be one and "Dadzawa!" Is popular- maybe wasn't necessary. Like, if it is to be part of Izu'a life....why not be a Consulting or smth else? Hell, AM have (?) An agency...why not take advantage of that?

"AM is a bad mentor"

I understand why people have this idea. Hori refuses to let AM be a good mentor. He is so crazy in "humble Izu" that goes against his story. The number 1 hero of all Japan wants to help Izu....but Izu needs to be humble....and Hori's defination of humble is to make his mc still think he is worthless.

Which leads to the last take I saw "Izu is a nepo baby" and like....

"Izu has everything on a silver plate while BK..."

"Izu never had to work hard while BK"

My guys....Bk never work hard in his life, Hori gave everything for his fav. Izu? He was abused, his father is MIA (I get the fathers in Japan have the costume to work overseas but Hisashi is never once mentioned and please, note how among all the fathers, even the bad ones, they are there) his house indicates he is from poor background....he had no friends...and his abuser was after him for 10 years.

Inko has no friends "ah but Mitsuki and Inko are bffs" is 100% fanon...and I think is a creation of a BdDk fan.

Izu had to work harder than everyone else...even more bc he got a quirk which breaks his bones. Everyone in UA knows how to use their quirks. They were born with it...Izu? He got recently and Hori still goes on "humble his mc"

So...please if anything BK is a nepotism Baby. He is priviliged. He shouts he wants a perfect victory but his victories are given.

Hori refuses to make any plotline that may make people see his bk in a bad light....which is impossible at this point...he is the most hateful and useless character out there.

#hori is a bad writer #the way this fandom treats Izuku worries me #mha critical #izuku mydoria #anti hori #rants

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klaineownsmysoul · 2 years

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From a recent TVLine article about the “worst tv love triangles”

Couple things:

1 - this is mostly spot on: “a living nightmare,” egregious, needless, uncomfortable, insulting. See also: disgusting, abhorrent, an affront to good taste and humanity, soul crushing, noxious, loathsome.

2 - the only part of this I disagree with is the idea that Klaine would have other love interests because why? Why would that be necessary? Why is it so hard to keep a couple together? There is no need for every couple to have some sort of midgame relationship before they reunite or break up multiple times along the way. Its just lazy uninspired writing to break a couple up, have them tiptoe around dating others or actually do it, and then get back together. Its possible for a couple to stay together and stay interesting along the way - see Brooklyn 99. Jake and Amy - once they went full steam ahead with them as a couple - never once had any kind of bullshit nonsense between them. They were solid together no matter what else was happening around them. No reason Klaine couldn’t have been the same. Watching this show would have been much less stressful if I wasn’t constantly worried about what fresh hell my boys were going to encounter this week.

Then I scrolled into the comments because I just can’t help myself sometimes and my oh my is that where the real insanity was posted. All of the comments about this were from Blaine haters, DK apologists, and Kurtofsky (🤢 🤢 🤮) shippers. Its 2022, the show has been over for 7 years now, and I can’t believe we are still dealing with this kind of grossness. Somehow someway a guy who verbally, physically, and sexually assaulted Kurt would be a better match for him than Blaine. I’ve read lots of enemies to lovers fic - which is sort of the vein they think this falls under - and in none of them did one person threaten to kill the other. None of them involved multiple physical assaults and endless and deliberately hurtful verbal taunting. In none of those stories was one person afraid of the other. This is not the foundation of a healthy relationship. “Oh hey - remember that time you threatened to kill me and then shoved me to the ground and laughed about it as you walked by? Yeah - good times. What’s for dinner?” NO.

Kurt chose to let what DK did to him go and move on with his life. He was and still is under no obligation to him whatsoever. That doesn’t mean he forgets and it doesn’t erase what happened. It will always be there because something that traumatic doesn’t just disappear. He has no interest in that person being a part of his life going forward, and I don’t understand how people can’t see that. Remember when he thought all of those cute secret admirer messages were from Blaine (because that is 100% something he would do) and then when DK showed up instead, he was all “wtf is happening right now” because he’s decided that he loves Kurt and wants to date him - but only in secret - and then gets all pissy with him when Kurt turns him down and reminds him that he already has a boyfriend and isn’t really in love with him? And then continues to text and call him so relentlessly that Kurt stops responding because its bordering on stalkerish at this point? And who ends up trying to comfort DK in the hospital because that’s the kind of person he is even though he still doesn’t owe him anything? Kurt. Right here though is where their story ends. There is no need to go back to this place in his life after this. Its a clean break and everyone moves on because that’s what needs to happen. The psycho fans were annoyed and complained that he was reduced to a plot point, but that’s exactly what he was. He had a purpose, he served it, so we move on. There is no place for him in the show going forward. Its a story about a bunch of musical theater kids with Broadway dreams who break into song and dance at the drop of a hat and he’s a guy who does neither. He’s not friends with any of the core characters and wasn’t even at McKinley at that point. Letting him go was the simplest thing to do and - something you won’t hear me say too often - makes sense storyline wise. He didn’t appear at all on screen in seasons 4 and 5 and was only mentioned once in the convo Klaine had at the end of “Tested” and that was it. He wasn’t missed and there was no scene where I can imagine anyone actually thought: “DK would really make this 100% better, I wish he was still around.”

You will never convince me that his unwelcome out of the blue presence in season 6 was anything but a vengeful middle finger to the Klaine fandom and a deliberate knife in the backs of all the Klainers who continued to support them and this show by default. It was the last and most hurtful way RIB could fuck with us because they are petty little bitches who stopped caring 3 seasons too early. The idea that Blaine would go within 50 feet of him is bad enough, but believing that Kurt could ever see anything romantic in the person who abused him is horrifying. C himself had to come out and say the two of them together is a terrible idea and sets a bad example to people and is a just a big fucking no. You won’t find anyone more protective of and invested in Kurt’s well-being that C and I don’t see how you can call yourself a Kurt fan if you continue to root for him to be part of a couple that the actor who plays him is vehemently against. Even if he didn’t have Blaine, this would still be an awful thing to want him to be a part of. Never mind the fact that they have nothing in common. Not a damn thing. Its hilarious and frightening that they think DK had some kind of massive redemption arc (and that MA “showed more range as DK than D did as Blaine” LOL no you are deluded af) and is deserving of more but call Blaine toxic and think that Kurt will one day outgrow him and move on and who better for him to reconnect with than an old bully? Gross.

Blaine’s OOC moments that were nothing more than attempted character assassination by lazy careless writers aside, there was no one more perfect for Kurt than him. No one who accepted him and loved him for who he is more than Blaine. No one who wanted to see him reach his dreams and become the star he’s always seen him as like Blaine did. Other than his dad, Blaine is the only person that Kurt - who kept people at arm’s length (with good reason) - ever really let in, confided in, put his trust in. He’s not going to find anyone else who makes him feel like that and he most definitely isn’t going to find it with someone who once threatened to kill him. Go ahead and die mad that your weird, ugly, and all around gross never couple never happened. I will be here enjoying the fact that my actual couple is professionally successful, happily married with an almost 2 year old, and most likely planning for more children. Klaine FTW.

#klaine #fuck you RIB #I so desperately wanted to comment and be all you people are crazy deluded but that's a can I didn't want to open #needless to say I will not be rewatching any of season 6 on disney+

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mandareeboo · 9 months

Text

Unfinished Work #56 "Prior Warnings"

I have nothing to add to this, unfortunately! It was originally gonna be a deep delve into Mariner's issues with stuff. The basic plot line feels pretty obvious- Petra helped Mariner get back on her old medication (for bipolar disorder) and via flashbacks we learn she got diagnosed not long after the war and Buenamigo discouraged her from taking it to keep her unbalanced. It just never had a good ending point.

Title: Prior Warnings

Summary: N/A

"I just wanted to let you know," Beckett says, "y'know, so you don't see it on my file later and have a conniption fit?"

Captain Freeman very pointedly ignores that, studying the updated medical info. Most of it is things she knows. A long life under various healing instruments, multiple surgeries, quite a few charges of disorderly conduct to medical staff. The Abilify is new, but not exactly surprising.

She raised an immaculate eyebrow. "The hell is Tegretol?"

Mariner shifts quite awkwardly, and Carol knows she's hit a nerve. But what else was she supposed to say? It's the only new thing on the damn list.

"It's an old prescription," she decides finally. "Got back on it when I was hanging with Petra."

Captain Freeman hides her frown behind the hologram. Well, as close to hiding it as she can. It's still a bit of a sore spot between the two of them. "Why did you stop before?"

Mariner shrugs. "Didn't want you to see it."

Ah, yes. Because that's comforting. "This medication is necessary, then?"

"Necessary to keep me on track, yeah."

"Alright then." Carol hits the acceptance button. Technically, it's not her jurisdiction to have to do that, but it makes more sense than having Mariner haul the thing down to T'ana. "Should I be concerned about what I just signed?"

"It's medicine, mom," Mariner sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For my manic episodes."

She blinks. Blinks again. "I wasn't aware you were diagnosed."

"Yeah, yeah, it happened awhile ago. I just..." Mariner shrugged, crossing her arms defensively. "I like who I am when I'm stable."

Captain Freeman raises her hands in surrender. "You don't have to explain it to me, sweetie."

"Yes," Mariner says, staring at the floor, "I do."

———————————————————————————————————-

"You're going to have to explain it to her, you know."

Mariner's knee bounced, heel tapping obnoxiously against the hospital floor. "What does she even know? What does it matter?"

Uncle Les smiles at her in a way that she finds comforting then but will find sinister much later. "Beckett, you know how Carol is. A great woman. A great Captain. But... not the most understanding. I just worry she'll try to give you medical discharge."

"No, no, no," she mumbles, leg bouncing higher and higher. "She can't. I can't. Doesn't she understand that?" Mariner's breathing went as high as her leg as she tried to calm herself, fingers digging into those weird chairs no one actually feels comfortable in. "Who am I kidding? She doesn't care. And dad doesn't either. He kicked my ass from his ship for a reason."

He pats her shoulder. "S'okay, Mariner. No one says you have to take the meds."

(Buenamigo never said anything bad back then. Mariner can only assume his reasons now. He wanted her unstable. He wanted her to destroy the Freeman family inside and out. And, goddamnit, she kinda did.)

———————————————————————————————————-

"Blurgh," she decides one morning, rolling over in her cot. "Leave me to die."

But Boimler is not as forgiving of her truancy as Mariner lets herself be. He's already in uniform, shaking her shoulder. It's like being on a ship. And not a cool ship. One of those dinky ones on water from the bygone era. "C'mon, get up. I will not be held responsible for you missing your shift."

"You don't have to babysit me," she pouts.

"Someone has to," he rebuffs, with that casual fondness that told Mariner she had the boy hook, line, and sinker. Most days Mariner loves how much her friends care, how they go out of their way to try and help. Today is not one of those days. "Up. I'll replicate a hose, don't test me."

Mariner flipped him off.

"You're not, like, actually sick, are you?" Rutherford asks, coming up to press a hand to her hip. He's a touchy guy. Mariner likes that about him. "Because I will not be okie-dokie if you keel over the entire shift."

"I can be persuaded with blood samples," Tendi chirps, scrolling through her daily routine.

"'M not sick. 'M nauseous," each word comes out like pulled teeth. "Side effect."

"Of?"

"Nunya."

"Mariner," Boimler whines. "We both know the Captain'll haul me into her chambers for a report if you don't come. I cannot handle that pressure today."

Tendi pulls something out of her personal shelf with a triumphant cry, and then there's a needle in Beckett's neck. The world slowly begins to right itself again as the Orion casually pulls her into a sitting position, showing off her now-empty injector with a jazzy wiggle. "I've been keeping them on hand to help with your symptoms," she explains casually, as if Mariner's info isn't private, as if Tendi hadn't hacked the system to help her deal with this.

"D'Vana," Becket says, in all seriousness, "you're a goddess."

"I still want those blood samples," she tells her, grinning ear to ear. "Your physiology is so interesting! Being under the beams but refusing to be healed all the way for your badass scars has left some seriously neat outliers."

———————————————————————————————————-

"They may... want to do some tests."

"Oh, bullshit." Mariner rolls her eyes. "Bipolar isn't new."

"No, but it is uncured."

"So is every goddamn mental illness."

"Exactly!" Uncle Les held up his hands. "You know how medical can be."

(Tendi makes it okay, she reminds herself firmly. Tendi would never harm her. Or, well, if she did, she'd at least warn her beforehand. Tendi's heard plenty of stories of her clocking assholes in the jaw for less.)

———————————————————————————————————-

"It's like you're a whole different person," Ransom marvels over their weekly beer night, and Beckett bristles.

"Am not," she snaps back. "I'm still the same psycho badass who'd fight you over the last martini."

Ransom shakes his head, looking disappointed in himself. "Bad choice of words. But you're a lot... calmer? You talk slower. You're thinking things out more. People can actually have a conversation with you."

"It's like pulling teeth," she admits cheerfully. "You know how hard it is to argue when I talk like a grandma? What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Listen to the other side and find compromise?"

"Hmm, no, gross."

He snorts and takes a long swig. Weekly beer night is also, arguably, a strange aspect of the newly medicated Beckett Mariner. Ransom had done everything short of begging Freeman to let her have a different mentor. And as obnoxious as Ransom was, she kind of got it? They'd always mingled like oil and water. Alcohol hadn't exactly fixed the situation, but it had made it more bearable on both of them.

Ransom swishes his beer in his mouth and swallows. Beckett opened her mouth to mock him for it, but he beat her to the punch. "So, uh, freshly diagnosed orrrr..."

"The fuck, Jack? Did you go snooping on my files?"

He levelled her a very flat look. "Mariner, your twisted ass mental state has been a long-time bet on the Cerritos. I just happen to know what mania looks like."

"Huh," she said, not having known that. "No, long time ago. Blipped on the radar after my first PTSD scan, so... six years ago? Seven?"

Ransom, damn him, can do basic math. "You were, what, nineteen? Twenty?"

"Yeah, man. I had a lot of messed up shit happen to me in my late teen years."

"Huh," he echoed, not exactly sounding surprised by that. "That damn war ruined all of us."

Mariner, deciding not to answer that, slugs her beer. "So, Jack. You win that bet?"

"Heh, nah. I found the whole thing invasive and rude. I put down for brain worms."

"Rude."

———————————————————————————————————-

"What if... what if they like me better... stable?" Mariner asks quietly.

Uncle Les pats her shoulder, nodding sympathetically. "They might."

"But I'll still be me. I'll just be less hyper."

"So they'll like diet you more. It's normal. You're.. a handful, Beckett."

(Better a handful than complacent. Ransom gets that. They hate each other, but they at least understand each other.)

#Unfinished Work #Star Trek: Lower Decks #Lower Decks #Beckett Mariner #Carol Freeman #Bradward Boimler #D'vana Tendi #Samanthan Rutherford #Jack Ransom

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laurent--stpierre · 2 years

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10 DEATHS FOR 10 YEARS [3 of 6]:

HMS Trash Ship sailed for ten whole seconds before hitting an iceberg. Everyone died. This isn’t a whole lot of content relevant to the plot (perhaps just what’s cleared up in the beginning) but I’ve been meaning to write it for a while, and it all ties in to what’s going on so. Fucking deal with it, I guess.

Date: May 10th, 2022. Warnings: No death. Just feelings.

It was only ever meant to be business.

The Frenchman, somewhat ironically, had her ex of all people to thank for that.

Though Laurent would eventually become her biggest advocate within the French ranks, not one of them had trusted her in the beginning; rightfully so, he supposed, when she’d done nothing to deserve it. Aurélie would've agreed to anything Dawar asked of her, though, and whilst he would never understand why the fuck that man had an unmatched influence over two of the most powerful and stubborn women he’d ever met, he also wasn’t in any position to question the head of the organization.

Or her motives.

Laurent had never doubted that hers didn’t necessarily line up with Amir’s desire to protect his former fiancée. Aurélie might’ve been one of the kindest souls he’d ever met, but when it came to Lara, a side of her sprung to life that seemed almost alien in comparison. It was a real, genuine hatred that’d once been because of the nightmares that’d transpired during their transition to Porto Velho. When it became clear the Rutherfords were responsible for bringing the Russians to London, however, something utterly unforgiveable to a family who’d suffered for so long at their hands, the escalation in hostility was immense.

The welcoming party for the Russians had almost spelled Aurélie’s death.

It had taken two people from her that she cared so much about.

Laurent knew that she would blame everybody who’d ever dared associate with the British for it.

Whatever had been discussed by his boss and Boy Forbes was none of his business, but Aurélie had been quick to capitalise on his flirtatious albeit meaningless back-and-forth with the Rutherford heiress. They needed somebody to act as a go-between, though it took some time for them to inform him just why that was. Laurent didn’t really know what he’d expected from somebody as supposedly heartless as Lara, but for her to consider slipping them information about their Russian allies in return for assurances that whilst she and the Rutherford men would not be off limits, her uninvolved siblings would, was not it.

When was a traitor not a traitor?

- - -

“I do not want to talk to you.”

Oh, she’d hated him, well and truly, and didn’t even try to hide the fact. Disdain clung to every word fired his way, and whilst she apparently wasn’t one for obscenities, if he could’ve read her mind, Laurent was sure he’d have found more than a few just for him.

“Well, you’re shit out of luck. I’m the only one she trusts to be in the same room as you without smashing your head into a fucking wall,” he threw back. And that had been a genuine concern, actually... “You realise she agreed to this knowing it'd benefit you and your shitty fucking family? Maybe try some gratitude.”

“Ah, yes. Because she gets nothing in return, obviously.”

“That tends to be how trades work, yeah. Your information about their plans means our guarantee that nobody touches Yvonne, or your weird fucking brothers.”

“And Adriana,” she corrected in a heartbeat, words searing.

“Wait, wait, hang on a second...nobody said anything about me not touching Adriana.”

It’d been meant as a joke, naturally, but the paperweight she’d grabbed off his desk and launched at his head seemed much less funny.

- - -

The arrangement in question had never been common knowledge amongst the French.

The risks were already immeasurable—to the St. Clair family, and the one slipping them the information—and involving anybody who wasn’t absolutely necessary seemed a needless risk.

Laurent could’ve picked anywhere in the city as a sensible meeting place, yet he’d always chosen to drag her to her ex-fiancé’s obnoxious fucking hotel like the petty little bitch he was. Just because he could. Back then, he would’ve taken any opportunity that presented itself to rub salt into her wounds.

How times changed.

Tonight, he was sat alone at his usual table in AU contemplating how best to avoid doing exactly that.

At no point had anything between them run smoothly, but he liked to think that over the years—because fucking hell, it had been years—he’d gotten to know her in a way most others would never get the chance. Understood things about her that went against the general, mostly negative, consensus. But Lara Rutherford was nothing if not complicated, and as much as there was plenty of dark hidden beneath the surface that proved the concerns of others were not entirely misplaced, he’d seen more things worth caring about.

Things that made his choice to stay in London harder than he’d ever expected it would be.

People would say what they wanted about her. Laurent knew she’d learned to care less.

But to him, in spite of all the bad, most tellingly of all, she was the kind of woman willing to make a deal with her very own devil to protect the people she loved.

And that’d resonated with him in ways she’d never understand.

- - -

“Do not brag about this to your friends. I don’t want anybody to know I’m slumming.”

If he’d rolled his eyes any harder, they’d have fallen out of his fucking face.

Given that he hadn’t expected he’d end up fucking her in the very same room she was fucking the entirety of the Russian mob—despite being ready to offer his very best attempts, mind you—it'd taken surprisingly little effort. For all the ways in which her reputation preceded her, that wasn’t one of them.

“That’s very fucking funny, but don’t flatter yourself. They’re already all over me about my shitty taste in women. I’m not about to hand them any more ammunition.”

“Good.”

For a moment, as she finally slipped back into her suit jacket, the room fell silent.

The Rutherford would depart shortly after, but not without confirming: “Same time next week, then?”

- - -

And it had become a regular thing, despite the promises he’d made to both his boss, and himself, about using this to prove to his doubters that he could keep it professional.

Had she ever really expected that, though, or was choosing him a set up from the start?

A twisted way to test the loyalty of a man who had never been anything but?

Laurent glanced over at a line of shots the length of his fucking arm, before picking up yet another. Alcohol always made for the ultimate emotional crutch. If he could walk out of AU of his own volition tonight, he’d consider it a failure, because he’d decided quickly that didn’t want to be able to walk at all. He didn’t want to think about the fact she was probably sat in some dingy fucking hotel bar right now, hopeful and expectant that he’d show up for her, just like he always did. He didn’t want to think about how the last time they’d met, he could see it in her eyes that the upset she held for him was different this time.

That she was hurting.

And that was precisely the problem.

Somebody else had entered their dysfunction, and things were different.

- - -

Something he’d learned over time was that mornings played host to her most vulnerable moments.

It was as if she took a while to get back into her stride; to remember the details of the character that’d become indistinguishable from the person she was to those who didn't know any better. Sometimes, she smiled more. Those were the rare mornings they shared that he liked the most, even if her amusement happened to be at his expense. Mostly, though, it was the opposite. Laurent had never imagined he’d meet another person who did as well to hide how hopelessly sad they were, but she was such a fucking expert, he could have learned a thing or two if he wasn’t trying so damn hard to fix it.

Since the cluster fuck at her fight club, she’d been so different it made his heart ache.

She’d lost something. A part of who she was.

Laurent would’ve done anything to give back what his poor choices had taken from her that night.

“Don’t do that...”

Usually, she would’ve disappeared on him by now. If not from his place entirely, she’d use getting ready as an excuse to cover up the mess Noa had made with enough makeup to feel satisfied.

Not today, though.

This time, she was still half asleep when he woke; blissful, almost, as though she’d forgotten she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had his right arm pinned beneath her, same as always, but as he reached up his free hand to attempt to tidy the hair obscuring her from view, she seemed aware enough of what was going on to bury her head between the crook of his neck and his pillow.

“Stop trying to hide.”

“No,” she mumbled, her arm slipping around his torso in a way that made her difficult to pry away again.

Laurent wondered if she still blamed him for what’d happened.

He sure fucking blamed himself.

It’d taken months for her to see him again after she’d been attacked on the balcony, and even then, it’d been in an agonizingly professional capacity. Lara would update him on any information, and then leave him again before he could even figure out how to ask how she was doing. No trading of insults. She barely even looked at him. It’d hollowed him out in a way he hadn’t been anticipating, because he hadn’t expected to miss her at all.

But he did. He did fucking miss her.

Until he’d managed to choke out an apology so sincere, he could hardly believe it was for a Rutherford.

Eventually, Lara put a fractional amount of distance between them again, and he realised then that she was definitely starting to wake up. The scars that covered almost all of her face were still obvious enough that they made her uncomfortable. Her eye, particularly without the contact lens to mask the damage, even more so. But whilst she seemed to think she lacked something for the changes, all he could think about was how glad he was to have her back at all.

When his thumb trailed against a particularly nasty scar beneath her left eye, she’d shifted uncomfortably. Drawing attention to them always set her on the defensive.

Until his lips followed the same path.

And all the fight left her in an instant.

- - -

Laurent often wondered whether he consciously chose to stand in the way of his own happiness.

When Zahira had become more to him than another number to dial for casual sex, he’d been adamant that he was going to end whatever was going on between himself and the Rutherford. Partly because he knew that his new girlfriend was too decent of a person to be subject to that level of disrespect—the kind of person he could have, and should’ve wanted to be happy with—but partly because he couldn’t help but feel as though things with Lara had escalated beyond both their control. It no longer felt like a game. Like fun.

For him, at least, it was getting too serious.

Had they been any other two people in the world, he would’ve been sure enough to embrace the fear in an instant. But they weren’t any two people.

And so Zahira, who he loved in his own way, became an out.

For a while.

The French adored her, and that spoke volumes when they often didn’t care for anybody outside of their own ranks. Perhaps even more surprisingly, she’d taken to them, too. Zahira was smart as whip, and so fucking beautiful, and everything any normal man would’ve considered to be too good for them. Most importantly, though, she was there. And yet still, the more time passed him by, the more his mind wandered instead to a woman who could only ever be a dream, and not his reality.

Until the one right in front of him didn’t feel so much like an out anymore.

- - -

“Diana sent me a picture of the ring. You're so tacky.”

Laurent had wondered how long it would take her to bring up his recent engagement.

“Why the interest? Jealous?”

The woman, who had been slowly pacing the width of his living room, cradling his cat like a literal child, paused only to shoot him a look that very convincingly assured him the answer was no.

“Jasper bought you one, yet?”

Then she smirked.

“Why the interest? Jealous?” She mocked.

Even though her amusement remained clear, his faded.

The admission was blunt enough to catch her off guard: “Yes.”

- - -

There had never once been a dull moment with Lara; of that, he was sure.

A particular favourite was a post-fight club morning. The Rutherford had snatched the cell phone that had awoken her off the bedside table, informed him without missing a beat that it was his other-half, and watched innocently as he’d greeted Oliver Parra of all people with a panicked ‘hey babe.’ The Frenchman had almost yeeted her and the damn phone across the room. Not without telling his best friend that the woman’s laugh in the background belonged to a Brenton fucking hooker, though...

Many of those recollections came to life in his quieter moments—both as reminders to smile, and reminders that he was a terrible fucking person—and back when his life had felt like it was falling apart, just as readily as now, he hadn’t quite learned how to stop thinking about her. Maybe it would’ve been easier to blame the Rutherford’s penchant for manipulation, but Laurent knew it was because he didn’t want to.

Would he have been doing exactly that in the middle of a bar otherwise?

Karma had eventually taken Zahira away from him—a deserved loss, given the way he’d treated her—and just like always, Lara had been there for him to fall back on. But despite the Frenchman’s best attempts to settle back into a routine he still tried to convince himself was meaningless, another person would soon enter the picture and turn his world on its fucking head.

At the time, he hadn’t realised it would be so meaningfully.

‘It is you who keeps putting yourself in that place. It is you who decides that you are not good. It is you who wants to place himself at the bottom of that god damned hole.’

When he’d met with her in the hotel room on the night of the awards, he’d expected everything to unravel before his very eyes; a deserved loss, just like Zahira had been. And yet, Leyla had once again proven herself to be a rare exception it would still take some convincing that he was worthy of. The words had been tough to hear, perhaps because they’d been so honest, but Laurent had carried them around with him ever since. They were food for thought. And it was about time he started fucking thinking of something else.

How many years had he spent sabotaging his attempts at happiness because he didn’t feel he deserved it?

How many women had passed through his life—ones that should’ve stayed—because he’d made the decision that they deserved better, instead of letting them choose for themselves?

Maybe he’d invested so much in Lara because he knew, in the end, none of it would fucking matter.

Meeting Leyla had been an intervention of fate, he supposed. The universe’s way of giving him one last chance, with a woman determined to get through to him in a way few others had made the effort, to choose happiness instead of perpetual misery. To choose someone wonderful, instead of being alone. To choose somebody who made him want to try, instead of sitting back and accepting a fate that was far easier to stomach than the idea of losing somebody else who mattered.

Yet when Lara had asked him to fly out to Launceston, he hadn’t even hesitated to book the flight. The immediate thought had been gratitude that she was no longer upset with him. That she’d moved past the insult of him abandoning their Valentine’s Day date in Monaco to return home to London for somebody else.

And maybe that was what had him realising so much of this was just fucking habit.

Perhaps, one that he was finally ready to break.

Seeing Leyla’s name pop up on his screen—messages for him now, instead of the man he’d pretended to be—Laurent realised that she was the reason why.

‘I’m sorry,’ had been all he offered Lara in his absence.

They were words that weighed heavy for a multitude of reasons. Laurent was sorry that things couldn’t be different, and that they’d never really know what could’ve been if they were. He was sorry that he’d once again relegated a woman far more sensitive that she would admit to second choice. He was sorry that he’d wasted so much of his time tormenting himself with both the things they had been, and would never become. He was sorry that he’d realised too late, too far in, that he hadn’t looked at somebody the way he looked at her since Pénélope...

The only thing he wasn’t sorry for, though?

That it was ending.

If he’d been smarter, Laurent would’ve dropped his phone back into his pocket after that; returned to his shots, got black-out drunk, and remembered only the words he’d sent her, instead of the emotion that had that’d been clawing at his fucking chest as he did it. But when the fuck had he ever been smart?

It took no time to find her. Less to hit dial.

As he waited for her to pick up, the Frenchman pushed away the last of his shots. He was done.

The ringing ended, and the relief was real.

“Hey...” When he realised there wasn’t even a hint of annoyance at the interruption from the woman on the other end, the night’s exasperation seemingly faded in an instant. In spite of the depths his mind had sunk to, for the first time since he’d walked into that bar, he found himself smiling. “I’m sorry, Leyla. I know it’s late. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

#self para #death of kate's trashest of ships

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jeanmoreaux · 1 year

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(reread anon) One of the things that bugged me the most was Tolya, unfortunately. In the books he's so quiet and serious and devoted and in the show he's this comic relief and I did not vibe with that at all. And then that they took plot points from all the five books and mashed them into one season. That Nikolai already is infected but that it was a Volcra and not punishment from the darkling. That Alina didn't lose her powers and that Inej's Story and trauma was not explored or explained enough. wesper, I didn't like how "smol" they made wylan, it made me a bit icky and how they didn't make him smart or clever in the show. I could go on but you've already mentioned most of the things already haha

noooo you're so, so right about tolya. like what did they do to his character?!?!? i am almost done with my siege & storm reread and there is barely any overlap between book!tolya and show!tolya. in the books, he's such a sternly calm yet imposing presence and he's very devoted to alina & his faith. in the show, he's just kind of there, trying to recite poetry and swinging his katana? idk it's very weird for sure ((also, the thing they did with him and inej???? HUH???)). ((and don't even get me started on tamar and the tamadia neglect lmaooo. so bad.)). godddd, they really randomly picked plot points for this season, didn't they? it truly feels more like a disjointed highlight real than a coherent story. and then the scenes don't even hit because they lack necessary emotional build-up and characterisation because there is no proper narrative set-up 😭😭 in this fictional universe, it simply doesn't work to take storylines out of context and mess with the timeline like this. ((yes, i am still VERY bitter about the pekka rollins stuff............)). you're right, my boys, nikolai and wylan, suffered so much as well. their characterisations ranged from reductive to one-dimensional to kind of okay to feeble to downright stupid. nikolai is more layered then the show even tried to show. i know the writers said they are were not interested in exploring the nikolai merzost infection in any physical way, but i personally think that's such a missed opportunity. the entire thing of transforming into a monster and dealing with that and how that trauma affects your psyche and your self-perception is SO INTERESTING. it's also a great metaphor in an of itself, later on as a physical reminder of the pszchological trauma as well. and ofc the whole king of scars thing is just kind of 🤷‍♀️ now. and as you mentioned, having a nichevo'ya (?) infect him is just..... less powerful then it being retribution from the darkling. it kind of takes from both their storylines and developments. alina not losing her powers (and sun summoning powers not emerging in the other people) was SUCH a disappointment. literally did not want This Kind of "girlbossification" of alina, but here we are. making her a shadow summoner was...a Choice for sure. this entire last episode was a Choice. and not a particular sensible one. ngl the inej thing is probably one of the things that makes me angriest. they have such an interesting and well-rounded character to work with and instead of exploring inej as a (main) character in her own right they choose to make her a supporting act in the kaz-brekker-show. it's just so frustrating. and yeah, wesper were quite a let-down. i get what you mean about the dynamic feeling weird. it's just not really wesper to me, you know. and, like i mentioned earlier, wylan's characterisation is so ??????? i don't understand why they even went this "smolification" route. he's a cunning little bitch and instead of leaning into that they chose to take it and throw it out the window??? another writing decision in this show i simply do not understand. like, WHY DID THEY FEEL THE NEED TO DO THAT???!! TBH WHY DID THEY FEEL THE NEED TO DO ANY THEY DID???!?! even now that i have had time to sit with the season for a bit, i am still baffled by so many choices. most of the changes they made were either boring or weird or just unnecessary, and quite frankly, make me angrier the more i think about them. their narrative decisions literally only took from the story while adding nothing of value.

#y'all probably thought i was done with complaining and over it. but i was just busy and now i am back 🫶#this is very unedited stream of consciousness. sorry about that.#like i mentioned in my ask earlier: you get it <3 #thank you so much for the ask!! i enjoyed it very much!!#anon #answer #mish watches sab #s&b2

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lis-likes-fics · 2 years

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Be a Good Girl

Pairings: Peter Hale x Kitsune!Reader Warnings: Smut, sex, steamy sex, punishment sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, just a lot of sex. A/N: Almost didn't post this one tbh. Last one only got three notes and two of them were mine. I hope it's good, happy reading.

"This is stupid," you told him with a roll of your eyes.

Peter looked at you with a sigh, "It isn't stupid, it's necessary. You were the one who told me to reconcile what's unreconcilable, and who doesn't like a party?"

You turned to him and shrugged, "I'm sure parties aren't the most comfortable things in the world for people who have almost been killed a million times at them. It's probably worse when the host of the party is a psychopathic wolf who's known for his plots and plans to kill people."

He smirked darkly at you, "Now, kitten. Let's not forget who's the one letting the 'psychopathic wolf' between her legs..."

You clenched your jaw and huffed as you looked away, blush covering your cheeks. "That doesn't mean this idea isn't stupid. You couldn't just... deeply apologize and cry your eyes out in your most sincerest regrets?"

He shook his head, "I don't do tears... unless they're coming from you."

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned to the side. "How gentlemanly."

He scoffed as he stalked over to you. "Oh, there's nothing gentle about the way I handle you, my little vixen."

You clenched your jaw again. "Look, I'll see you at the party. Please... be a good boy."

You turned to leave. With your back facing him, he was suddenly pressed against you with his hand coming around your throat, his fingers tracing the column as you breathed shallowly. His lips came next to your ear, his teeth just grazing your lobe before whispering, "I think it's you who should be a good girl."

You did not respond, too focused on the pooling between your legs as his hands trailed along your sides, dipping low and gripping your thigh. "Do you understand me, sweetling?"

You let out a slow breath and nodded slowly, "Yes."

"Yes... what?" he questioned, his breath fanning along the side of your face. You knew he was listening closely to your heart pounding in your chest, reveling in the way you reacted to him.

"Yes... Alpha."

He smirked, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "Good girl," he said before pulling away from you. "Go on."

You walked away to get away from him, almost embarrassed at how wet he had gotten you without actually touching you.

This was going to be a long night.

—

"A pain in my ass, that's what he is," you said with a roll of your eyes as you talked with Stiles and Lydia.

Stiles shrugged a little, "Yeah, thought so."

"So tell me again," Lydia said, "Why are we here? Why did he all of a sudden decide to throw a party for us?"

You took a sip of your drink, glancing around the apartment that was decorated only slightly well for the party. Scott was talking to Peter with Malia, both looking very cautious of him as he spoke about god knows what.

"I told him to just apologize and make amends. Apparently, he heard 'throw a party to bribe the guests to be friends'," you responded.

You glanced back again to see Peter giving you glare. You just smirked a little at him, throwing a wink his way before rolling your eyes in Peter's direction when Scott and Malia turned around.

"Interesting approach," Lydia mumbled, glancing at Stiles.

"And why is he trying to make amends?" Stiles asked. "I mean, it's kind of out of nowhere... isn't he the ultimate bad guy?"

You sighed, swirling the drink in your hand, "Exactly. He keeps trying to hit on me so I told him the only way I'd even consider is if he stopped being so despicable." You leaned forward with a whisper, as if you were trying to keep it a secret from Peter. "Obviously, I'm lying, but it's good to have hope."

They chuckled lightly. You were lying. You did tell Peter that if he wanted to stay with you, he would have to be better. As much as you liked the bad boys, he took the title to the next level and it was not what you wanted from him. He did not have to become a good-two-shoes, but he did have to stop trying to kill people you considered friends.

You considered Peter just someone you picked up for a ride, for a fun time... but the more time you spent with him, the more you were trying to push away the fact that he was becoming for of just a "fun ride".

But you were a fox, a kitsune, a trickster spirit, and you would not let yourself become susceptible to being tricked by a wolf. You would have your fun and move on to your next ride.

And having your fun meant doing what you do best: annoying the absolute hell out of your little wolf plaything.

"Well, hopefully it works, or we're going to have a severe headache on our hands," Stiles said, glancing at Peter before taking a large sip from his drink and walking away.

Kira and Mason suddenly appeared in front of you as you sat down in a chair. "Just to be clear, this isn't some sort of trap?" she questioned.

You shook your head, "No, Kira, if this was some sort of trap, I would have told you."

"Right," she nodded to try and reassure herself. "Because you spend time with Peter—for some reason—and you know how his mind works, and we're friends so you would know if he was planning something, and you wouldn't let us fall into one of his traps."

Mason continued, "Cause if you did something like that, then we wouldn't be friends because that wouldn't be a friendly thing to do. So we're safe, we're in the clear."

"And we're rambling," Kira stopped.

"Kira, Mason," you stopped her, "calm yourselves. Everything is fine. Just enjoy the party, but don't drink that." You pointed to the cup in her hand that was filled with the punch.

They gave panicked looks. Mason spoke, "What? Why not? What's in it?" They brought their cups to their noses and sniffed it quickly.

You then smiled and shook your head with a chuckle, "I'm kidding. Everything is safe. Go hang out, keep an eye on Peter." They nodded and turned to leave, obviously still nervous with the way they quickly left.

"You should be more careful," Peter's voice suddenly said beside you. You barely reacted as you hummed, moving to go get another drink.

"They'll be fine. Especially Kira, she's tough," you told him.

"I wasn't talking about that fox." You turned to sed him giving you that look. It was the same look he gave you when he got fed up with your tricks. He kept his voice low so the others could not hear you both. "I don't appreciate the way you've been acting tonight... Those things you keep saying about me to put them on edge, it doesn't help."

You shrugged and he moved his lips closer to your ear. "You're supposed to be my advocate."

"The devil's advocate, my favorite role," you turned to face him.

"No, simply an advocate," he said. "I told you to behave."

"I am behaving," you countered, raising a brow in amusement. "I'm just not behaving well."

He rolled his eyes, glancing around to see if anyone was looking. There were, in fact, more than a couple people watching. There were Chris and Scott glancing back and forth between them as they talked under their breaths, Stiles and Malia blatantly watching them, and Derek acting like he, Liam, and Kira were talking.

Peter sighed and simply whispered in your ear, "If you don't behave, little kitten, I'll have to punish you."

A smirk spread over the side of your lips that the on-looking guests could not see, but quickly disappeared as soon as your face was in view again. You replaced your smirk with a glare and a scowl. "Nice one," you replied, your voice just loud enough so the others could hear.

You grabbed your refill and walked away from Peter. You saw Stiles and Malia move over to Scott, Stiles mumbling to the wolves and the hunter, "Yeah, we're all going to die."

Peter rolled his eyes at you, his hand clenching into a fist. He whispered under his breath as his eyes trailed after you, "You're going to get it when we're alone."

—

You did ease up a little bit after that conversation, but not enough for Peter to be satisfied. You still hinted that he had unsavory intentions and that everyone should be wary of him, but behaved enough to where they were not openly ready to fight... besides Malia, who had no problem with starting a fight.

When it was time to leave, everyone did so as quickly as possible to get out of the danger zone. You were still sat at one of the stools with a drink in your hand, setting it down on the counter and checking the time on your phone.

As soon as the door was closed and everyone was outside of hearing distance, Peter was in front of you again. You were almost caught off guard by the way he took your throat in his hand, his claws out as his anger became evident.

He made you look up at him, standing right in front of you with dark eyes that bore into your soul. From where he was positioned, he was more than towering over you and effectively making you feel small.

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked, his lips twitching in anger.

You kept up your cool. "Hilarious."

"You can't keep saying that I need to be better and then debunk every effort I make to do so," he argued.

You rolled your eyes, only for him to grip your throat tighter, his claws almost digging into your skin. You spoke calmly, "Peter, they're not going to believe you if you just randomly decide to become good. Obviously, I have to oppose you because they would be less inclined to listen if you started out nice. Instead of throwing a party, do some small and worn your way up, or they will never trust you."

He leaned forward, his face right in front of yours, "I still told you to behave."

You met him in the middle, or at least as close as you could get with him holding your throat, your lips barely touching his, "And I told you... I am behaving, just not well."

He examined your face, his anger being replaced with a smirk as he straightened his spine again. "I think I may know how to remedy that..."

You raised a brow, "By being more specific?"

"No," he replied, his eyes dark and his voice raspy with annoyance. One hand was still secure around your throat, while his other hand moved to his belt. He began to undo it, the metal clinking against it before coming undone. He unbuttoned it and the zipper swiftly came down.

You were growing hotter and hotter as he teased you with how slowly he was removing his belt. Your lips were almost watering, and you were practically buzzing with need. You knew your antics would annoy him in just the right place, make him feel to need to reprimand you in a way that you would favor.

Your eyes darkened and you had to fight the curl of your lips at your excitement. But it did not matter how hard you tried to contain yourself, Peter picked up on it. Of course you had been acting out, this was the attention you wanted from him, and he was about to give it to you.

The thing was, Peter also knew a trick or two...

His hand fell from his pants, which now had a tent in it at the thought of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. "You know what..." he muttered, "you don't deserve that one..."

He watched as your excitement fell, putting a damper on the high he had created. He watched you squirm as you mumbled, "Aren't you going to punish me, Peter?"

He smirked, "I know a better way."

You raised a hand to his thigh, squeezing as you let it venture up toward what you wanted. "No better way than this to... put me back in my place," you said as your hand met his clothed cock.

He grabbed your wrist roughly and pulled it away. "As I said... I know a better way." He bent down and you were suddenly thrown over his shoulder as he strolled over to the couch. He sat down with you positioned over his lap.

Oh.

His hands smoothed along your skin, the back of your thighs, the inside of your thighs. His lips were curled into a smirk as he looked over you. "I have been needing to do this for a while now..." he quipped. "No better time than the present, I suppose."

"I like the other one better," you mumbled as you pouted, your face flushed at the new position.

"I know you do," he replied. His fingers hooked the top of your jeans, yanking them over your ass as your panties went with. He removed them completely from you, moving your shirt up so your ass was bare for him.

He hummed as his hand smoothed over the soft skin, gripping you tightly in his large hand as you stifled a moan. "You know..." he whispered, "over our time together, I always knew you were a little brat... and the best way to take a brat is to give her a little spank."

He accentuated the word with smack to your ass. There was a sting where he hit you, and you almost moved out of his lap to look at him.

That's it? That's all he was doing? Your lips would be wrapped around his dick in no time if that was it.

You got settled in his lap with a huff. "If you must," you mumbled.

He just continued to smirk, his hand still smoothing against your skin. "I want you to count with me each strike, and you will thank me for each one... the correct way."

You nodded and he forcefully grabbed your face, "Use your words, kitten."

"Yes, Alpha," you responded.

"Good girl," he smirked. You stifled the whimper that threatened to pull from your throat at his words. He always knew just what to say to get you hit and bothered, didn't he?

His palm flattened against your ass then as he let go of your face. You laid obediently across his lap and waited for him to start so you could get to the fun stuff.

His hand lifted into the air, and you were nowhere near prepared for the impact his hand made with your ass. It had caught you off guard, the pain so great that it took a moment for it to register in your mind and in your skin.

You yelped as the pain blossomed across your skin, your thighs quivering and your fists clenching. Your mind was instantly hazy, your mouth went slack.

You almost did not hear Peter's voice as he expectantly waited for you. "I didn't hear you, girl," he said.

You had to take a second to remember as you spoke, "One. Thank you, Alpha."

He smiled and sighed, "Good." You had to brace for the next strike, which had you jolting forward in shock. It was not long before the pain was mixing into a strange pleasure, the wetness pooling in your thighs and making them slick with arousal.

"Two. Thank you, Alpha," you spoke. He struck you a third time, his hit somehow much harder as you almost screamed his name. "Three," you gasped, breathing out to try and ground yourself again, "Thank you, Alpha."

He smirked as his hand momentarily dipped between your thighs, his palm flattening against your slick pussy as he collected your arousal. "This might help a little bit," he remarked before hitting you again, the wetness on his hand making the pain greater.

You moaned that time, your face flushed and your ass definitely red and on its way to blue and purple. You counted it and thanked him, your face trying to hide away from him.

This went on for a while and you did your best to keep count, as he kept threatening to start over if the count was lost. You were fairly certain you had skipped backward or forward a couple of times, but he had decided to take pity on you.

When the blows were finished, his hand smoothed over your bruised ass as you tried to hide your bruised ego. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Will you behave well now, my little vixen?"

You nodded gently, trying your best to get out of the words, "Yes, Alpha." He smirked and kissed the back of your neck. Your ass hurt like nothing else, but the stinging was mixing with the pleasure and excitement that made your body buzz and your thighs coat with more arousal.

This did not go unnoticed by Peter as his hand dipped between them again, his fingers teasing your folds. "Such a naughty girl," he tutted with a shake of his head. He pulled his fingers between his lips, his eyes closing as he tasted you.

He moved to stand, going to the arm of the sofa and dragging you by your ankles so you were lying over it. You let him do it, still trying to recover from the intense punishment.

Peter lifted you shirt over your head carefully, unclasping your bra so you were bare in front of him, even if you were lying on your stomach. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his fangs just brushing your skin with temptation. He then let out a sigh and straightened his back again.

He moved to his knees, his hands spreading your cheeks so he had a better view of your drenched pussy. "Look at this," he said, leaning forward and planting a kiss to the bruises along your ass. "I really did a number on you, didn't I? Maybe next time you'll think twice before you misbehave."

You nodded, "Yes, Alpha." Your voice was shaky, all of the mixed feelings along your body making it hard to focus. You were brought back to the present, however, when his tongue licked a long stripe up your pussy. You gasped as your eyes opened, your mouth falling slack to let loose a moan.

You could feel his stubble brushing against your skin, which only aided in making you somehow wetter. The deep moan that came from his throat was nothing if not sinful as his eyes closed at the taste of you.

"Simply delectable," he commented. "I could stay here forever tasting you."

You cursed yourself. You almost started begging for him. It was far too early to start begging. You would only beg when he inevitably turned you into a puddle of your own arousal.

You felt Peter's thick fingers slowly begin to fill your pussy, your slick giving him no trouble in doing so. A stifled moan left your lips, your hands grasping the cushions as your face buried in them. "I'm sure you're just loving this, aren't you?" he questioned, one hand grasping your thigh.

You let out a quick breath, "Could be a little better." He hummed, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of you and curling them, his free hand pushing your legs apart more. "I bet it could," he smirked.

Peter licked another strip up your cunt, humming at your taste before he began to suck on your folds. His tongue swiped along them, dipping into your pussy. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest, smell the pleasure oozing out of your skin. It made him grip your legs tighter, settling in closer as he spread them.

He sucked on your clit, his tongue still playing with you so deliciously. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, so close to your release. You needed it, you craved what this man could do to you with nothing but his tongue.

But he knew what you wanted, what you needed. He knew how close you were getting, but he would not let you get it.

So he pressed his fingers into you and coaxed you to the edge. You were just about to come, it was right there, when he pulled away from you. You whimpered, the feeling of unfulfillment and utter frustration washing over you and filling you with dread.

You gripped the cushions, your eyes shining a fiery amber as you looked back at him. You bared your teeth at him, clenching them tightly. He just smirked at you, his hand smoothing against your back and tracing along your spine. The simple move was one that you hated he knew, because it rendered you useless as you practically fell back down. He always used it when he needed you to relax your body, to stand down and let him do what he needed—or simply wanted—to do.

"You forget your place, little one," he said, his lips right next to your ear once again as he taunted you, his fingers still pressed to your back.

"I'll get you back, you know," you replied quietly.

"Sure you will," he said, pushing his fingers back into your cunt. You could not hold back the moan that escaped you. Your thighs clenched and your hips wiggled, but you knew he was not going to give you what you wanted... not yet anyway.

This went on for too long. You were wet and frustrated, but you could not do anything to retaliate because he kept using that annoying trick on you. You had not realized you had begun crying until you felt the tears dripping onto your arm. "Peter, I need to cum..." you tried, your legs shaking as you clenched the cushions again.

His hands were gripping your thighs, his tongue at work as he ravaged you like you were his last meal on Earth. The sounds that rumbled in his chest vibrated through you. You were a mess.

He pulled back for just a moment, replacing his mouth with his fingers to say, "I know you do, kitten... but that's not how we ask for things, is it?"

You did not want to succumb yet. You wanted to prove that you still had some fight left in you, but you knew that he had you by the throat. He truly could stay there forever, whether you pleaded for him or not. You had lost track of time, and you were in need of a release from this endless cycle he was putting you through, building you up to make you cum before breaking you down by simply pulling away.

You needed to cum, and you needed him to let you.

"Please, Alpha, please let me cum," you cried. "I need it, I need you!"

He pulled away, a smirk on his face as his dark eyes watched you. "Such a good girl you are. Stubborn, but good."

However, he did not fulfill your wishes. He removed his hand from you and stood, bending his body over yours as a hand wrapped around your throat again. You hummed, your eyes fluttering closed at the contact. "Say it again for me, little vixen. Tell me how much you want me."

Your breath was labored, but your heart was pounding. "Oh, please. Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me, Alpha. I need you to make me cum, please."

"Atta girl," he said, nibbling the back of her neck before pulling back again. You looked back to see him pull his shirt over his head, throwing it away from him without taking his eyes from you. Your eyes raked over his body, appreciating the view he was providing you with.

He placed a hand on your lower back, his other moving to shove his fingers into your pussy again as he lifted your ass up. You whimpered in reply, grunting when he pulled out of you again.

With one hand, he cleaned his fingers of your arousal as the other pushed his pants down his legs. He stepped out of them, presenting himself naked behind you. He stepped into you, his cock pressing against your ass as his hands found your waist.

"I'm going to make you scream, kitten," he smirked. You were going to make some sly comment, but you did not have the time to as his cock suddenly filled your pussy.

He pushed himself all the way inside of you, his hips pressing into your ass. You both let out a long breath, your head falling forward as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Peter's smirk widened as his head rolled back to look at you.

He did not move yet, his hand traveling up your back and tangling in your hair. He pulled your head back, sliding his hand to your throat to get a good grip of your neck. He hummed, "How much do you want it, sweetheart?"

"Please just fuck me," you moaned.

He chuckled, "That's good enough." He pulled back, his tip brushing the inside of you, before his hips snapped back into you. You gasped, pleasure blossoming inside of you and making your legs shake. He did it again, and again, and again, the wetness that was coating your thighs creating a sinful echo off the walls as he kept fucking into you.

You could hardly keep yourself together, pure bliss fogging your mind and putting you in a daze as he hit all the right places. An especially loud moan left you when his hand clapped against your bruised ass, making you see stars.

His hips kept snapping into you, his hand roaming your body and grasping your ass. Your body felt so alive in that moment, so out of control as the need to scream his name filled your throat. You kept trying to swallow it down, but it was just at the tip of your tongue. You needed to let him know just how wonderfully he was making you feel.

You reached a hand back to grab a hold of his arm, feeling his muscles flexing against you. "Fuck, Peter," you moaned.

He was smirking still, pride swelling in his chest. "You like that? Does that feel good, kitten?"

You nodded, your head hanging low as your hair fell in front of your face. "Don't stop," you breathed. He raised one of your legs up to rest on the arm of the sofa for better access. The hand around your throat tightened a little, and he lifted you up so you back was pressing against his chest. The new angle allowed him to to deeper inside of you. His hand was still secured around your throat, his fingers pressing against your pulse.

He was breathing heavily in your ear, muffled groans filling your senses. "You feel so good squeezing my cock like that," he moaned in your ear. His words only made you clench down harder around him, taking what you could from him.

When he pulled out of you, you huffed in frustration. "Please," you whispered. He shushed you, drawing out the sound before finally telling you, "Patience, kitten. You'll get to cum."

He turned you around so you were now facing him before bending you back so you were lying on the couch again. He spread your legs wide and settled inside of you again, his hands finding your breasts as he squeezed and flicked your nipples. He was moving again in no time, thrusting in and out of you as he hit that perfect spot inside of you perfectly.

His eyes raked over your body, watching your face contort in pleasure. He saw how hard you fought to keep your eyes open, but you were having so much trouble. Your body bounced as he fucked into you, your ass rubbing against the couch.

"Please, Alpha," you begged. "Please let me cum."

He hummed, a finger brushing over your cheek and down to your throat. "You're so sweet," he said as his eyes looked over your skin. His thumb brushed over your shoulder. He was fighting off his predatory instincts to claim you properly, to dig his fangs into your skin and own you, take you as his and only his.

You just looked so pretty impaled on his cock, your eyes squeezed shut, your breasts bouncing before him, your hair a mess on your head. He wanted so badly to make you his and only his, to ensure that you were never touched by anyone who was not him ever again. The mere thought of it had his heart racing.

"Do you want to cum, little one?" he asked, his thrusts growing sloppy as he neared his own release. You nodded, pleads falling off your tongue like a prayer.

His hand came down to your cunt, his thumb beginning to rub harsh circles into your clit. You grabbed his arm, your grasp strong so you could try to steady yourself. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped.

Peter's jaw clenched as he watched you like a feral animal. "Then cum for me, kitten," he commanded. "Don't hold back."

And you obeyed. You came hard, your pussy clenching down on him as your eyes shot open, a blazing amber taking over as you screamed Peter's name.

It sent Peter over the edge as he came barreling after you, grabbing your hips and pushing into you as deep as he could. His muscles flexed, his shining eyes flashing a bright blue.

He filled you up with his cum, filled you with his seed, as he shouted your name. "Yes!" you cried, "Oh, yes, please!"

You stayed like that for a while as you helped each other ride your highs. Slowly, you came back down to the present. Your eyes found his as you caught your breath, your heart returning to its normal pattern.

A smirk slowly took your face as you sighed, "Fuck, Peter." He pulled out of you, much to your dismay. His fingers grazed your neck again, a long breath escaping him as he muttered to himself, "Maybe next time..."

You rolled over and stood on shaking legs, trudging a couple steps to Peter and throwing your arms around his neck to bring him into a kiss. Your lips slotted together perfectly, and it felt amazing. Your tongue brushed against his lip, eager to taste him. As he let you in, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

When you pulled away, your hands still pressed into his skin, your finger tapped against his chest. Your faces were still only inches apart as you thought to yourself. He raised a brow, and you looked up at him, feigning innocence.

"Yeah," you mumbled, shaking your head, "I'm not done with you yet."

He laughed, "Oh, thank God." He picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

It was a very long night with Peter's cock buried inside of you.

Teen Wolfies taglist: @thelastpyle

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