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#do you know how many things would have to have gone wrong for this to matter?
mrsparrasblog · 3 days
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You're losing me pt 4.
prev part. part 1 next part
TW: Drug use, mentioned rape, mention of violence, medic is the worst human on earth
Simon sat down next to Johnny on his bed, holding the Scotsman's hand while giving him a reassuring nod. "We have the whole day time."
"It's complicated."
"I will understand."
"Promise to believe me."
"Promise." Simon didn't know exactly what had happened or how Johnny got this way. He always admired Johnny for his confidence and the way he made everything seem so easy. Seeing his boyfriend like this broke his heart. He knew Johnny would never cheat on you; he loved you, everyone loved you. He remembered that one day Johnny got piss drunk on a mission and a bird approached him. He showed her pictures of you for 10 minutes, telling everyone he had the most beautiful lass on earth. This man wouldn’t cheat, especially not with her, definitely not his type.
Simon thought she had just gone into Johnny's bed at night, removing her clothes and gaslighting him that he cheated. But when Johnny told him everything about the drugs, about the rape, about the way she tried to blackmail him, he felt like he needed to throw up. He was too young to protect his mother from this. He couldn’t do anything when it happened to him. He didn’t know you when it happened to you. But this time, he was going to kill the rapist. "You’re a good man. Don’t let her manipulate you into something you aren’t."
"I feel like shit."
"This won’t go away easy, love."
"I don’t know what to do." And he really didn’t know. Everything seemed and felt so lost. Simon believed him, right? But what if she tells everyone he raped her? It will be over with his military career. After she pulled that stunt you wouldn’t believe him anymore. The look in your eyes almost broke him completely. This was wrong. It went too easy for her like she had done this many times before or had been planning this for years. It was too easy.
"Let me fix it for you, Johnny." He was determined to do this. Through his head already went 1000 ideas on how to kill her. But every way was too easy, too nice for her. Rip her head off. Sell her off to the black market so she will experience first-hand the crimes she did to others. Burn her alive. Many possibilities.
"Don’t kill her, Lieutenant."
"You know she will do it again. Not only to you but to others."
"Do you think she already did this?" Johnny fiddled with his wrist. The bracelet that you bought him to help with his ADHD was gone. It always calmed him. You told him how you searched through whole Etsy to find some gems that should calm him down. He didn’t believe this shit, but it indeed calmed him down since it reminded him of you. And right now, you were the only thing he needed. He needed you to tell him that he isn’t dirty, that he isn’t at fault, that he is a good man.
"Would explain why she was transferred so fast to us from her old unit."
"Fuck." This needed to stop. He couldn’t let that happen to more innocent people.
"Let’s talk to Price, then I’ll take care of her, and after that, we get our girl back." Simon missed you just as much as Johnny did. For a split second, he was afraid that you were mad and disappointed that he didn’t check on you. But that wasn’t the selfless girl he fell in love with. He knew you would understand if you only knew. He could already imagine how you would apologize even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You were different than the medic scum.
"Do you think she’ll take us back?"
"Yes, promise." He placed a small kiss on the shaved part of Johnny's mohawk, a small gesture that the Scot always loved. Simon always knew how to calm him down. With that, they left in the direction of Price's office.
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He woke up with an immense headache and the urge to throw up. John really drank too much the last few days, but this will end now. He will concentrate on you and the job again. You forgave him for lying, at least that was the last thing he remembered before you brought him to his bed. On his bedside table stood a glass of water and one of your self-made brownies with a small note. "Take care of yourself, bear." You always jokingly called him a bear because that was what he was to you. John was the big cuddly bear who always kept you safe.
He knew by the amount of alcohol he drank yesterday, he should probably head to the medical department for some meds. He would never tell anyone, though. He was a hypocrite sometimes, always letting the other hungover soldiers run miles to torture them for being so irresponsible to drink before training. But he could afford the luxury of taking meds against his hangover.
So John went to the medical. He was annoyed when he only saw her there.
"Hello, Captain." She smiled brightly, which made him almost throw up on the spot. There was always a difference between the real, sweet-like-a-cake, like his girl, and the artificial acting sweetness she faked. It was disgusting. "Is there another medic or nurse in here today?"
"No, sorry, Captain."
"I'll go then."
"Come on, Captain, be professional. What do you need?"
"Just something against my hangover." He can be professional and still respect you, right? You won’t be mad he talked to her.
"That was easy. I'll bring you something."
She came back, still with that creepy artificial sweet smile. In her hand was a glass of water with, judging by the displaced white particles, meds. "Just some pain meds against headache and dehydration. Drink up, Captain, and then stay here for 20 minutes for the next med."
John drank it up. After a few minutes of sitting in the chair, he felt his limbs tingle weirdly. This must be one of those side effects of the meds.
"How are you feeling, baby?" Weird name.
"Don’t call me that." He tried to leave, but it felt like his body didn’t do the things he wanted anymore like he was paralyzed.
"I wouldn’t do that, John."
"What was in there?" This can’t be fucking true. This is one of those weird drunk dreams.
"Oh, baby, just some mild paralyzer. Don’t worry, it only lasts three hours, and you can still talk. That’s great, isn’t it? Oh, and Viagra."
Fuck, this is true. This is how she got Johnny. She is fucking sick. "What do you want?"
"You know, I really tried to be nice, but you all only talk about her all the time, so I took matters into my own hands." She said as she slowly sat down on his lap. John tried hard to do anything, but he wasn’t able to move.
"Look, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need us. There is someone who loves you." He tried to be nice, and use his words to come out of this situation, but she already removed his pants. He knew it was over there until he heard the sudden voices of Johnny and Simon. He knew she could never outsmart them, and she knew it too.
"Fuck, fuck," she screamed, gathering the remaining meds and her things. She ran out of the room the second she saw the door open.
"Fucking hell, Captain, you're okay?"
"That fucking cunt drugged me. Get a fucking nurse here." This all didn’t go like Simon's plan. It felt like she was always a step ahead of them.
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Kyle didn't notice any of the drama going on in medical as he used his time in the gym. Well, more of texting you instead of being productive, until.
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"Fucking hell."
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Tag list: @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121
A/N: I know you are waiting for her downfall, it will come promise.
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The Song of Ice and Fire (DARK BOOKMOND X STARKREADER/OC)
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Aemond (book) x Reader
🔷Summary: After getting kidnapped on your way to King's Landing, you end up in another time where you meet a dangerous prince.
🔷Author's note: Either hit or miss with this one
🔷Wordcount :6756
🔷Warnings: This is Bookmond because im a little too sad to write showaemond atm. Bookaemond is my deranged honeybee he can do nothing wrong. Ok almost nothing.
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WARNINGS: Kidnapping, drugging, forced marriage and war crimes and aemond being a sexist little bitch. Also spankings.
Maybe it was for the best. You always dreamt of leaving the cold and quiet town of Winterfell behind. You dreamt of a bigger, exciting life. A life of tourneys, of exciting feasts, of noble men fighting for your hand. It should have been as simple as that.
Except it wasn’t.
Sansa, your sister is going to be the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Your father would be the hand of the king, one of the highest positions at court.  You, Arya, and her will soon travel with him to King’s Landing.
Until something happened.
Something unexplainable.
And something terrible.
Lately, your dreams have been getting worse. From nightmares that you didn’t pay any mind to darker things, things you barely could keep to yourself. Nightmares and dreams filled with unexplainable things, unknown faces and the death rising and marching. 
_____________
It is clear to you that your mind is simply toying with you. You are likely nervous for the future that awaits you. You are nervous for the suitors you’ll meet and that your life finally will begin. It will just be like all the romantic novels you read. It will be ball after ball and feast after feast.
Your dreams always start the same way. You are alone, surrounded by trees as big as towers, in the snowy woods. You hear the sound of the crispy snow as you set feet on it, moving in any direction, to find something. Home, you assume. The stars above your head are the only light to guide you, and it is unforgivably dark in the cold forest.
The cold winter winds pick up and toy with your hair, sending it in all directions. You never know why, but you always turn your head slightly sideways. You can’t control it. You don’t have a say. As a chestpiece moving over the board, you do as you are told by someone controlling you. 
It is always a surprise to see the wall close by, no matter how many times you have dreamt this dream. The majestic tall, ancient structure that has been here long before you were born and will be there long after you have gone. Something about it tells you are not supposed to be here. You feel chills.
You had heard reasons why the wall was built. Wildlings, mostly. The Nightwatch was installed to guard the wall, to make sure no threat could climb over it. You know your brother, Jon, dreams of becoming a brave member of the Nightwatch. It is all the honor he will gain as a bastard anyway. You are the same as his twin sister. But your father kept your bastardy a secret.
But the most important reason why the wall was built was the threat of white walkers. Cold, icy and deadly soldiers of an army without needs and without a will, forced to march forever beyond the wall. And when you are all the way North, you can only go one way: South.
You knew it wasn’t true. You knew when your father told you about them, they weren’t real. But any Northern child grows up with the same tales. Creatures with eyes as blue as ice, that could freeze you in pure terror so they could easily squeeze your eyeballs out of your head, killing you. A fun tale in a tavern. But not in the castle. 
You aren’t a foolish girl, no matter what the world tells you. You don’t believe those lies. You never did. You are not as brave as Arya perhaps or as pretty and polite as Sansa but you never believe in those ghost stories.
But here, in your dreams, beyond the wall and far away from your safe warm room at Winterfell, even someone as skeptical as you could understand why people believed those stories.
What would come next in your dreams was also always the same. You turn your head away from the wall. In the far distance, you can make out someone standing there, holding a lantern. The person is hooded, unrecognizable. But the person would always lift the lantern, and wave with it. Your eyes follow the movements, as the light of the lantern becomes brighter and brighter, shedding light over the forest, making the snow almost look like liquid gold.
It always seems so magical, as a scam shopkeepers tell their far too trusting clients before selling them magical rocks or potions. You know the hooded person never reveals themselves. You tried running at them, screaming, but you couldn’t move nor speak.
Then, you notice you are standing on something. A great lake, made of ice. Gone are the trees of the forest. Through the ice, you make out the skeleton of a human being. Someone from a long time ago. You watch the skeleton, wondering how long ago this person met their end, and how. And beneath the ice, poking halfway out of it, is a steel forged sword with a black handle. The tip of it is still in the ice, covered in a dark rusty coat of old blood. You notice your hands reach for the sword, picking it out of the ice.
The sword feels different than most swords. Lighter, better to wield. Safer. It feels like wielding one of your own arms. It feels safe, comfortable. Yours. Impossible. Ladies do not wield weapons. Not such obvious ones, at least. Ladies wield lies, poison, tricks, schemes. 
You turn to the hooded figure, sword in hand, still standing on the ice, with the skeleton safely beneath your feet. The hooded figure is gone. As is the light. The world is once again covered in darkness. It is suffocating you, in a way. 
Fear and anxiety fight inside of you, as you try to get off the ice. But you can’t move. Not anymore. It is not your body, anymore. You don’t have a say, anymore.
The sword is starting to hurt your inexperienced arms, and you try at all cost to drop the weapon. Your head snaps as you hear the sound of something you never heard before, but somehow you  know exactly what it is. A dragon’s roar.
You never felt fear like that, as you look around the lake for any sign of a dragon. But instead you are met with a thin skeleton made of ice and rotting flesh that reaches out with their hands, trying to grab you. A white walker.
You scream.
But before he could grab you, drag you into the lake with him…
You wake up.
You sit straight up in your bed, clutching the sheets of your bed. Your heart is still beating and your fear hasn’t left your mind yet. You are glad to see you are in your rooms, at Winterfell. Several familiar stuffed animal toys glance back at you from their spots on high shelves, calming your troubled mind instantly. You are coming of age so put some of them away, but unlike Sansa, you could never throw them out. 
You climb out of bed and prepare yourself for the exciting day ahead. The day your life will change forever. You just had no idea how much. And how terribly.
As always, Winterfell is busy. Servants go about their day, greeting you with nods or smiles as they carry in potatoes or walk around with freshly washed linen.
Your father and ‘’mother’’, brothers and sisters are already at the table, gathered for breakfast. They seem to have been waiting just for you. You greet them with a relieved smile. The food smells delicious and makes your stomach rumble in unladylike ways. You sit down on your chair and begin eating. 
You can almost hear Lady Catalyn’s thoughts. Everyone seems to know it. This might  be the final time you might all be together. This is goodbye, in a way. Jon will go to the wall, and you and your sisters to King’s Landing. 
You grab an apple and begin biting down on it, while also making yourself a cup of nice honey tea. You can not wait to leave the boring North and the nightmares finally behind. The north is a boring and cold place. Nothing exciting ever happened. Your sister, Sansa, also looks more happy than usual. Normally, she is grumpy at this hour.
‘’Do we need to leave soon?’’ Arya mutters next to her, playing with a fork and a potato. Your parents share a look, and your father speaks to the youngest Lady of house Stark. 
Even with their differences, their arguments and their fighting, you can see that Arya dreads the day that her and her  would leave for the capital. She likely wants to remain here, in the cold North forever. Eddard speaks, smiling with pride and joy and you feel jealous of how easy Sansa will become the Queen. ‘’Sansa will be the Queen. I will become the hand of the King if all goes well. Perhaps you’ll like King’s Landing.’’ Arya’s brown eyes fill with worry at imaginary scenarios. She looks at her sister, who always was said to be prettiest and who always has focussed on how to be a lady. She imagined King’s Landing would be filled with Sansas.
‘’No, thank you.’’ she mutters. Yet she does not have a choice.
You begin eating the apple first. At that moment, Maester Luwin comes from the courtyard, bringing likely fresh news, plucked from a raven. He brings the news first to your parents, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.  ‘’Lady Lynantha is expected to be escorted to King’s Landing today. Her carriage is already here.’’ You drop your apple, distraught as all eyes are on you. ‘’Why aren't we traveling together?’’ You ask your father. He does not meet your eyes. 
‘’I received a letter. A nobleman from King’s Landing, one of King Robert’s nephews, wishes to get to know you. It is of importance that you leave right away.’’ You know why. There are rumors you aren’t a true born Stark. That you are a bastard. Rumors that are likely true.
You understand. You are eager to leave, in a way. Lady Stark stands up from her seat. ‘’I wish you well, Lyantha.’’ You never liked her. She never liked you. But you do respect her. You nod, respectful as you make a final curtsy. 
Luwin coughs, reminding you all that time is not on your side. You finally stand as well, excusing yourself as you mutter. ‘’I must pack for the journey-’’ You will need clothing, books, maybe jewelry.
‘’O, there is no need, truly.’’ An almost magical light voice rings out. A woman with raven dark hairs, a green gown with beautiful gold patterns stitched onto her skirt greets you with a curtsy. ‘’The Capital has everything you could need.’’ She assures you, a sweet but horrible hollow smile on her lips. The Lady makes a bow for her as well. ‘’I am Lady Alys Rivers. I have come to escort you to your Prince.’’ You know that Rivers is a last name used for bastards and commoners, and wonder silently how someone as Alys could have acquired such a position at the royal court. But you would never dare to voice that concern. Of course not. A prince, a title, it is almost too good to be true. ‘’A prince?’’ You ask, beaming with excitement. Sansa huffs, and you see Alys nod, almost a little too pleased with your excitement. 
The woman smiles as if you two are long lost friends. ‘’A true born royal, a fierce skilled warrior and an intelligent man. Few are blessed in so many ways.’’ You are certain your smile only grows.
He sounds so charming.
So perfect.
So kind and gentle and gallant and strong. 
‘’Very well.’’ You say. Your father is the first to hug you, whispering in your ear that you’ll always be a Stark, and his little girl. If you have trouble, you could write to him and he’d be there before you could blink with your eyes.  
The Starks remain loyal and firmly rooted outside in the yard as the carriage slowly departs to the roads, leaving Winterfell behind. Such sorrow the Starks all share And such more sorrow they would share if they had known what would become of Lynantha.
The carriage is comfortable and to your liking. It is warm as a mother’s embrace and has soft pillows that make the long journey comfortable. You imagined you would stay at multiple ins down the King’s road. Lady Alys has been nothing but kind to you, offering you sweets and cake when the landscape and scenery outside of the window changed. 
The lemon cakes you eat are heavy on your stomach, and soon you feel tired. Exhausted for some reason. It must be the weird nightmares that kept you up. 
As a true future Princess, you  try to stay awake in the carriage but the more she fight against the instinct to sleep, the more tired you become.  Eventually, you fall asleep in the carriage.
This time you too dream of the strange sword, the strange lady with the Lantern and the wall. But you can hear a voice this time as well. ‘’Do not go to the wall! Return! You don’t know what you are unleashing!’’ You can not place the voice, and you assume it belongs to the lantern lady. But when you look at the normally covered lady, you see Alys instead, wearing the common cloak and dress, holding the same lantern. Her eyes are red and sinister, burning like hellfire and her smile spreads wider than it should.
Once again, you wake up panting and breathing heavily. Alys is still near you, calmly knitting. You had hoped if you left the North, the nightmares would end. ‘’Welcome back, my Princess.’’ Alys says as she finishes her knitwork. ‘’We are almost there. Just a bit longer.’’ And at that moment, you notice a familiar basket that is half covered with a blanket on the floor. You would recognize that basket everywhere. And to be in King’s Landing so fast….Something is wrong.
‘’You don’t work for the King do you?’’ You ask, your voice soft and trembling. ‘’You’re not taking me to King’s Landing.’’
Alys only smiles, putting her needles and knitting work away. ‘’Just sit tight. I need to bring you to him alive, he didn’t say in what state.’’ He? Who is he?
You have many more questions, but you are not stupid. That was a clear threat and an order to shut up and so you will.
The carriage finally approaches its final destination. And halts.
When you look outside, all you can see is darkness. And the ominous yet sparkling stars above the carriage. Just as in my dreams.
It feels much colder here. And that smell. The smell of iron and snow. Alys takes her time with putting her hood on, and as you had  expected by now the hood had the same pattern as that of the Lantern lady. She smiles as she opens  the door. You don’t know what she wants. But it can’t be good. And you are not coming with her.
You clings to the carriage instead, refusing to follow Alys. ‘’No! I’m not coming with you! Bring me back!’’ You demand. 
Alys only chuckles and pulls harder, pulling you easily from the carriage as a flower being plucked. She puts you outside the carriage.
In the cold snow you take a good look at your surroundings, looking for any help or signs. And there it is. You turn around, as if you can already feel its presence. The looming tall wall of the North.
And you are clearly beyond it.
’Are you mad?!’’ you lash out at Alys. ‘’You have endangered us both! Who knows what’s out there.’’ Alys ignores you, shining her lantern around the ground, searching for something.
You rub your cold arms, regretting you didn’t bring a coat with you. The snow storm only grows worse and worse, as a storm unleashing upon a town. 
You look back at the wall, before stumbling on something beneath your feet, buried in the cold snow. Just like in your dream. And just like in your dream it is the sword. For a moment, you think about picking it up and threatening Alys with it. You reach out to grab it. ‘’What did you find there?’’Alys’s voice rings out, closer to you than she was before. You try to pick the sword up, but Alys is faster. She has a strange smirk on her lips when you backed away from the now armed woman. ‘’Such a good girl, finding the sword. I’ll tell him that you found it.’’ There’s that ‘’him’’ again. 
You become even more uncomfortable at her clearly condescending compliment, and for some reason she is more angry with you than before. Is it because you found the sword? And not her?  ‘’Now come. He’s not known for his patience.’’  You look back at the Wall. Alys sighs, clearly annoyed. ‘’Or you can stay out here in the cold and freeze to death.’’ She adds, with a careless shrug. ‘’I don’t mind.’’ She is right. You know she is. And you hate her for it. You won’t survive out here on your own.
The two of you approach a lake that is somehow not frozen despite the cold.  It is not the lake with the skeleton. You can tell. Red and green and black and yellow flowers grow around it too, and everything about it seems to confirm that this is nothing but just a dream. But you can’t wake up.
Alys grabs your arm, walking to the lake. You resist bravely but end up in the water regardless, yelping expecting cold, freezing water. But it does not feel cold. It does not feel warm. It does not feel anything, truly. It feels…soulless. Dead, in a way. 
Alys and you approach the deeper part, where you can no longer stand. Before you can ask what is happening, she pushes you underwater. You gulp, as water fills your lungs, convinced you will die. You close your eyes and at the moment you have given up all hope, something beneath you seems to open, and you fall down.
Your body is drifting between both space and time for a while, until someone pulls you up by your hair, and out of the waters, back into the world of the living. You gasp for air, spitting out the water and cling to the ground, looking around you as you thank the gods you are alive.
You are still near a lake. Just not the one you nearly drowned in. You look at the skies, and it is day as well. How long have I been gone?
This lake has flowers in just green colors, and has ruined walls around it, likely belonging to a palace from a time long ago. You look around and notice your captor calmingly sitting next to you, making a crown out of flowers. She drops her crown the moment she sees you have awakened. You can only glare at her, too stunned for anything else.
You hiss at her, close to strangling her. She cackles. ‘’You’re finally awake. I was worried you didn’t survive our little magic trip.’’ You sit up, taking in more and more of your surroundings, the sun warming your wet clothing, as you look at the ruins of a castle and people passing you both. 
You jump to your feet, ignoring your soaked clothing as you rush to a soldier. ‘’Hey, Hey! I need help! She abducted me!’’ You yell. The soldier takes one good look at you, before he sees Alys. Alys cracks her head sideways, causing bones to crack. That is all it takes for him to take off running. 
You huff, in disbelief and anger. ‘’Craven!’’ You shout, as he rushes off. Next to you, Alys doubles over cackling once more. She finds this extremely funny, for some  reason. She lays a hand on your arm, smiling at you.
You instantly shrug it off, disgusted. She doesn’t seem to even care, still smiling. 
‘’Come. We are almost here.’’ She says. You can do two things. You can dive back into the lake, and likely drown, or you can come with this woman. Both aren’t smart things to do. Alys offers her hand again.
At that moment, you spot a nice, big rock, just a few steps away from you. Most people here don’t care for abuctuees. They won’t care for murder either, you think. No one would know. No one would judge. And no one would tell.
This woman is a threat to your safety. And so you grabbed the rock, and tried to get Alys on her back. The woman cackled again, much to your annoyance. You did manage to get her on her back, and raise the rock skyhigh, ready to deliver the deadly blow. Alys laughs, before spitting in your face. Disgusted and caught off guard, you drop the rock. ‘’It seems we need to watch ourselves around you.’’
‘’Come, we must not let him wait any longer.’’ There it is again. 
You know you are going to regret going with Alys but you don’t have a say. Not anymore. ‘’Who is this him you speak of?’’ Perhaps the mysterious prince, her lover, or an enemy of Joffrey. It has to be.
Or, a Targaryen. You snort, in your head. The Targaryens had been defeated, like their dragons and their ancestors alike. They would not bother you or anyone else on the Westeros continent again.
‘’Your prince, of course.’’ There is something strange in her voice. Almost a scoff or an inside joke that you had yet to understand. However you perked up at hearing those words.
‘’The match my father arranged?’’ you ask. ‘’Is he here?’’ It couldn’t be. Could it? It would not explain the lake, the change of time, the wall, anything of it. But the thought that you soon would see your handsome prince again, gives you some hope.
Alys ignored you and did not confirm nor deny anything as the two of you walked to the castle gates. As you approach, you notice countless freshly dug graves. You gulp. You try to remember what castle this could possibly be. 
And that’s when you see it. The ruins remind you of a more polished version of the castle of Harrenhall. The cursed castle and the castle where dragon fire still burns to this day. The walls look younger, time has not been as cruel as it has been now. The fire burns, as always. 
The thing that scares you most, were the gates. Someone had put heads on the spikes, heads of people who all had their eyes wide open and full of terror of whatever killed them. A killer. A monster.
The smell makes you sick. And judging by their smell, they had been here quite a while. Alys doesn’t even bat a eye at the dead. But she did grab your right hand, dragging you inside of the castle. 
The doors open the moment Alys approaches them, her head high as a true queen. You walk next to her, your thoughts spiraling. 
You have just a moment to glance up at the banners decorating the outer walls. And you wish you hadn’t. An unfamiliar yet known sigil hangs there, proudly paraded by the wind and kept in place with pins.  You would recognize the three headed dragon everywhere. The Targaryens. But how? 
Yet this one looks different. Alys drags you in, the moment you finally draw the conclusion that this is the sigil of no other than King Aegon II.  The gold and the green made that clear. But what are his banners doing here, nearly hundred years after his passing? Unless….
You already felt sick because of the dead outside the gate, and now you feel even worse as an irrational and terrible fear begins to form in your head. A fear so insane that it can’t be true, but how can you deny what is right in front of you? Have I truly….?
Alys drags you with her, into the castle halls and into the throne room. The door has no guards. You can hear someone playing with a blade, sharpening it. You feel shivers and cold, in your wet clothes.
Alys gives you a push in your back, sending you into the room on your own.
‘’I’ve brought you something.’’ She says, her smile barely containing her pride. 
Whoever is there, they didn’t bother to open the curtains or to light candles. A truly terrifying conclusion. 
You trip over your dress, and fall. You regained just enough balance to land on your knees, instead of flat on your face. You know whoever is waiting here, orchestrated this whole thing. And if your gut is right, you know who it is. 
You laugh, quietly. You must be crazy, expecting an actual Targaryen prince to await you here. Stir crazy. But what other explanation is there? Why else bother with old banners, why else does the castle look better than it ever did in your time? 
You glance up at the man sitting the throne, his legs calmly placed on the arms of the lavious throne he sits upon. He is indeed sharpening a catspaw dagger, and his lips have the faint impression of a smirk and a smile blended into one as he takes in your soaked clothing and angry glare. Alys opens some curtains.
And the moment you do see his face, it feels as a relief and a shock at once. Relief because you were right. But also a shock because how, how can you possibly be right? 
You were treated as a silly little girl. You can only think of one reason why the banners were here, why the castle looked so good and why the dead were rotting above the gates. And this man’s face confirms it all.
In front of you, is no one else but Aemond Targaryen ‘’one eye’’ the Kinslayer of House Targaryen. You know him from the history books you have read. But those books barely mention him. Aside from his death and his atrocities at Harrenhal. 
And yet, here he stands. In front of you, alive and well. He is a true Targaryen with sharp classic Valyrian features like piercing eyes, and very light, almost silver coloured hair. 
He finally stopped sharpening his dagger, curiosity written all over his face as he takes you in, sitting on the floor, at his feet and glaring at him. He can’t help but smirk.
You glare. Whatever it was that is going on, it is all his doing. You can tell. And that prince Alys promised you would meet, that is him. A cruel joke on her behalf. You glare at her too. She simply makes another curtsy cackling once again.
Slowly, a smile creeps on his lips, amused by the audacity. ‘’I take it she was a smart lass and obeyed?’’ The question is aimed at Alys and you physically feel your stomach turn even worse by his words. 
You had not been a ‘’smart lass’’. If anything, you had acted insanely dumb. You resisted, you tried to kill Alys. You tried to run. You tried to resist in every way possible and more. 
You cross your arms, tired. Alys beams as she tells Aemond what has happened between the two of you, happy to see you punished by her Prince. ‘’She tried to kill me with a rock.’’ 
His face tilts, and although he tries to appear uninterested and cold, even a simple man could read the anger and murderous emotions in his eye.  ‘’I will see to that she’s punished for that.’’ He promises his loyal servant. To that, Alys smiles.
Aemond smiles at you, in a condescending way. You glance between him and Alys, aware you are in trouble now. ‘’I am not yours to punish.’’ He is not your husband, nor your king or father. No one should decide what happens to you but you. Your voice doesn’t sound scared or angry. Just annoyed.
Aemond shifts his legs, angry at your carelessness and casual behaviour. He slams his hands on the arms of the throne, causing you to flince briefly. He stands up, and you finally see just how tall he truly is. And how fast he stands in front of you. He sinks to his knees, the green leather cracking. He clearly enjoys the way you flinch as he reaches out to touch your chin and your cheeks, feeling your soft delicate skin beneath his fingers. He finally bothers to address you. ‘’Of course you are, Little Wolfling. If you touch and damage something that is mine, you will be punished.’’ He reveals. 
You understand finally that Alys is more than just his servant. They have a relationship. He loves her. And you tried to kill her. You must try to talk your way out of this. ‘’Your lady did not explain why I was taken from my home and lied to.’’ You hope he becomes more understanding of how terrifying all of this is for you.
Alys snorts and Aemond laughs. You curse quietly in your head. That was a failed attempt. ‘’As I ordered her. Alys obeys well and listens. You can learn a thing or two from her.’’ He tells you, finally getting up from the ground. 
Somehow, that makes you angry. The idea that he now thinks you will help him as some spineless pet and roll over for him when he wishes so, it makes you so furious that you are close to pulling him back by his eyepatch to slam his head against the stone floor. You do not have the sword anymore. 
You only have your clothes.
And …
Oh.
You patiently wait until his back is turned to your front, before sliding your shoe off and aiming at his head. You throw the shoe as hard as possible and it ends up hitting him perfectly on his head.
Confused, he turns around, looking for who dared to have hit him. When he notices you, smirking very proudly and missing one shoe, something changes. And you regret even blinking in his direction.
Prince Aemond storms back to you, as you can barely back away to escape him. He is faster and steps on your dress, trapping you easily. You feel the walls closing in and are truly in danger now. The Prince grabs you by your waist, lifting you to your feet and drags you to the throne. You try to break free of his grip, protesting. ‘’Let go of me!” You turn your head to look at Alys. Surely she has a say in this. But she only smiles.
Aemond let out a low chuckle as he sits down the throne, your body still in his grasp. He places you on his lap, as some disobedient little girl. He whispers in your ear, and your cheeks burn with shame. ‘’You laughed. Now it is my turn to laugh, Little Wolfling.’’ You let out an offended cry, struggling to get away from him as fast as possible.
He chuckles. ‘’I am not sure what they teach you in the North, but here, we are respectful to our princes.’’ He says, lecturing you. His cold hands feel the back of your dress, feeling the warm skin that it covered.
Until that moment, you had never been touched before. Instead of doing what you feared he would do, he picked out a different punishment. He does lift your skirts, but barely enough to touch you. Just to reach your small clothes but mostly your behind. And at that moment you know what he is planning. And you don’t want that. You try to escape again, kicking and slapping him.
Aemond grabs your hands, grinning. ‘’Calm down, Little Wolfling. It’s just a spanking. I’m sure you had plenty before.’’ Never. 
Your parents did not believe that that was a healthy idea. ‘’No! Never!”’ You declare, angry. ‘’And you are not my father or my husband. You aren’t allowed to punish me.’’ You say, bravely.
He only scoffs, and his hand lands the first hard blow on your behind, causing you to cry out in pain. You squirm over his legs, fighting stronger and harder. He increases his grip, tightening it. ‘’Tis for the best you learn now, Little Wolfling. I don’t have time and the patience to do this every day.’’
The blows only increase, hurting your delicate skin. You did try to keep from crying and from complaining. You wouldn’t grand him that satisfaction. Not anymore.
It is true that you were disciplined in this way, yet your body betrayes you in the worst way imaginable. 
You do not notice your arousal until it is too late. Your nipples are hardened and there is a wetness between your legs, growing. 
You stop fighting. Perhaps in shock of your own betrayal, perhaps only to show the prince that he could stop what he was doing to you. Finally, he stops. But not before your behind is burning and a painful mess. 
He helps correct your dress and covers you apprioartly as if nothing has happened. You are still in shock, and don’t move away from him at first. ‘’I hope I made myself clear to you both. You both will play nice to one another.’’ He tells both you and his lover.
Alys bristles. ‘’I am not the one picking up rocks and killing people.’’ But this time, Aemond has enough of her complaints.
He did all he could. ‘’The Wolf has been disciplined. I am sure my Little Wolfling will behave much better in the future.’’ You are forced to sit on his lap, as a prize he had won.
‘’Won’t you, Little Wolfling?’’ He whispers. He does not kiss you, but his lips come closer to your cheeks, and unwillingly you feel your cheeks burn bright as stars. He chuckles, amused. ‘’You can go now, Little Wolfling.’’ You almost look offended when he sends you away.
This madness needs to stop. ‘’I,’’ You catched your breath. ‘’I don’t understand a few things.’’ You say. You want the truth. Now. Before you offend him again somehow.
Aemond rolls his good eye, smirking. ‘’You are a woman. I imagine that happens to you a lot.’’ Even Alys glares at that comment but his royal highness does not see it.
You only blink, ignoring him. ‘’You are alive.’’ You say, cutting straight to the case. ‘’You were killed in a battle.’’ You don’t remember who killed him or with what or where but you are certain Aemond Targaryen died.
Aemond’s head perks up, listening eagerly to what you tell him. You can tell he is not listening, but he is eager. ‘’What am I doing here? Am I here to save the dragons?’’ You ask. ‘’Or to stop the civil war?’’ Not that you would even know how in the seven hells to do that, but that's another thing entirely.
That causes the head of the prince to snap to Alys, worry written across his face for the first time that you met him. Alys only makes a gesture with her head, and Aemond seems to calm down. He smirks, carelessly. ‘’Oh, don’t worry about the Dragons.’’ You never heard any Targaryen say that.
The dragons are their wolves. Their dragons are their war winners. You laugh, offended and still hurt. ‘’But, without dragons, I am sorry to tell you, your entire family will become ash and dust.’’ You even chuckle.
Aemond stands back up from the throne, raising his sword and pointing it at you, lashing out. ‘’You are a bold little girl, are you not? Perhaps my hand was too gentle.’’
You don’t even back down anymore. ‘’It’s the truth. Where I’m from, house Targaryen is dust. All thanks to you, your sister and your brother. Together, you caused the civil war and killed the dragons-’’ That is pushing it too far. 
Aemond grabs you by your throat, choking you lightly to warm you of not accusing him of another thing. ‘’Silence.’’ He barks.
You obey, glaring. ‘’Good girl.’’ he smirks, mockingly. ‘’Now, I understand, you must be so excited to see a dragon, hmm? You can’t shut up about them.’’ He stops choking you, feeling your neck.‘’I suppose, there is truth in what you tell me. The dragons are long gone where you are from. But you are now here, with me.’’
‘’The story is written.’’ You say. 
Aemond snorts, and there is something dangerous about his body language. ‘’The story is just beginning.’’
You have a terrible feeling. ‘’You see,’’ Aemond grabs hold of your left hand. ‘’I have some inside knowledge. You know how this will end. You will tell me how the dragons died out, and I will simply be always one step ahead of my enemy. I will be their worst nightmare, their downfall and the dagger that slashes their throat.’’ He grins, as you become truly terrified and even tremble.
‘’How will you stop your sister?’’ You whisper. But you fear you already saw it in your dream. ‘’How will you stop Queen Rhaenyra’s marching troops?’’ Your voice is a soft weak whisper.
Aemond leans in, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘’I heard a prophecy. The song of ice and fire. That is where you come in. You can help me find something, something very precious.’’ He chuckles.
The sword.
He wants to find the sword.
But why.
Unless…
‘’No.’’ You instantly say. ‘’You can’t.’’ You turn your head to Alys, watching her blank expression. She is fine with this. You watch as Aemond smirks in silence, confirming to you that he is planning to do the impossible. ‘’Aemond, you can’t.’’ You repeat.
Aemond’s grip only tightens. ‘’Think about it, little Wolfling. An army that never rests, never eats, never betrays me. An army that will help me conquer Westeros; An army of White Walkers. It is perfect.’’ He is insane. 
‘’I won’t help you.’’ You remind him. ‘’You might as well send me back.’’ 
He ignores your protests. You can see his smirk and grin only grow, and you are reminded of Targaryens and their insanity. Their fire. Their blood. ‘’You will help me, little Wolfling. You will. Because if you do not, you will never see your family again. I have the means to send you back. And I will. After you have helped me.’’
You scoff, so you must help him do gods knows what so he can send you back to your own time?  ‘’It doesn’t sound like I have a choice, do I?’’ Alys shakes her head. ‘’What will I need to do?’’ You ask Aemond, your head hanging in shame. How many will die because of you?
He lifts your chin, grinning. ‘’Now, now, don’t be so sad. To begin things, we must find the sword. And I want more information on how to better keep the dragons too.’’
You cannot do that. ‘’Dragons died centuries before I was born!’’ You don’t know anything about dragons. ‘’I don’t even know what they eat.’’ You almost whine.
‘’Meat. They eat meat.’’ Aemond says. ‘’Vhagar is right here with me. I will teach you about dragons, you will teach me what you know of the Dance and how it ended.’’ This all sounds like a horrible idea to you. ‘’And when the time comes, we must complete the prophecy of Ice and Fire.’’ That sounds vague. 
But you want to see your family again. More than anything. So you hold out your hand, and wait for Aemond to shake it. He smiles, kissing it instead. He leans a little closer. ‘’I can’t wait until we are married. I always wanted a Valyrian wife, but you’ll do.’’ You laugh, thinking he is jesting. Until you see how Aemond is looking at you. Like you are some delicious cake he can’t wait to taste. He mirrors your smile, allowing you to be in denial as he makes his way to his lover, kissing her openly on her lips. You watch speechlessly as the two of them walk away, their chuckles and giggles mixing as they likely picture their new world together, with them for once atop of it, instead below. 
You throw your head into your neck and try to process it all. What in the seven hells did you even become part of?
a/n
Ooh, i wasnt sure i even wanted to share this one.
But here he is xDDDD
Ok bye
let me know what you think
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shipmansflannels · 2 days
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"who asked first" with the yellowjackets
yay! I'm back! the decision to open a new blog just for yellowjackets wasn't easy at all, but since it's been a year since this obsession has barely gone away and I already had an extremely confusing blog with layouts and the like, I wanted to start over with this one. hope you like it. I'll make a very simple and small prompt first, and then I'll make the masterlist and the oneshots/fanfics. stay tuned! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!
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who asked first with the yellowjackets girls...
jackie taylor.
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well, if we're going to be honest here, you definitely asked first.
of course, jackie had already been rehearsing for weeks how he would ask you out. but she's obviously a girlfaillure, so you definitely asked first.
it was probably when she least expected it. it could be at soccer practice, or when you were coming home from school together and you had the audacity to ask her to go out with her to some hypothetical and boring place in the middle of the street… whatever.
all I know is that this little loser was eager for you to ask, and she definitely rolled out the classic, "took you too long…"
shauna shipman.
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again, you asked first.
shauna doesn't have the social tact to ask you out (she's just like me), and drunk is even worse, so you actually had to make the first move most of the time.
just like jackie, it could have been when she was at soccer practice, or when she was alone enough to vent to her journal and you were able to get close to her without scaring her. anyway, the thing is, shauna was already secretly expecting this to happen (a lot of her journal pages were about you btw), so it wasn't a surprise either when you asked her out.
despite everything, you didn't have any difficulties on your first date. she's pleasant company, I suppose.
natalie scatorccio.
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one of the rare exceptions where she asked first.
okay, don't be fooled, either. natalie is very cocky from time to time, but asking to go out with you is definitely one of the times she tends to weaken. so, kevyn probably dared her to do it and she just took advantage of her cooler personality to use it on you.
but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. in fact, it's kind of a good thing (and probably depressing for her) because she only felt like herself when she asked you. I see in nat a huge tendency to ignore some of her feelings, especially when it comes to people she likes.
the invitation was probably also full of teasing on her part, from body language to the words used for it. and somehow she made it look cool and convinced you to accept it.
things that only natalie scatorccio could do.
lottie matthews.
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for some reason, I'm 100% sure you asked first.
I know many of us think of lottie as a completely carefree, liberal and often bitchy enough person to ask someone out on a date. but, if we count the pre-crash, I think she was a very insecure person and uncertain of her feelings, more due to the influence of the pills.
so, as incredible as it sounds, you asked first. it was in an extremely relaxed conversation between you that the invitation ended up unintentionally, and she was visibly panicked when she agreed.
lottie is probably the type of person who has a rehearsed speech in front of the mirror while getting ready, and with her enviable style and expensive clothes (some stolen), she would do anything to make your date the perfect date.
taissa turner.
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she asked first.
taissa is confident enough to ask you out, I have no doubt about that. but she definitely spent weeks planning the perfect invitation, just in case everything went wrong and she needed to run (just like what happened when she thought about breaking allie's leg before nationals).
anyway, taissa would certainly ask first and it would be quite a surprise for you. taking into account that, from the moment you accepted, you would discover that van also knew about her friend's ideas, and later that half of the team also knew. it would be a shock because you wouldn't understand tai's intentions at first.
but none of them are necessarily bad. one, is that tai was really excited if you accepted, and her anxiety couldn't stop her from wanting to tell the world. two, because she was overly excited that you had agreed to go out with her, and wanted the world to know it as well.
van palmer.
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as much as I would really like to prove otherwise, you asked first.
van has the same problem as lottie, but in her case, it's excessively because of the sarcasm jokes and high charisma. she thinks she's being too much for you and that asking for something like that on this level would end up scaring you away.
in the end, it's totally the opposite, but it's going to take van a long time to figure that out, specifically. the invitation would happen when she least expected it, probably when you were feeling confident enough to pass notes to her during classes.
it's a cute invitation, and one that van would hold in question for a long, long time.
misty quigley.
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there would be no other answer. she asked first.
misty has no shame in admitting that she has a crush on you. and of course, to ask you out on a date, this shame decreases even more. she doesn't even care if she will be made fun of by her colleagues, what really matters is that she planned everything for you to accept.
and when I say everything, it really means everything.
from the moment she will slide up to your table and quietly ask if you accept, to the tone of voice she will use to persuade your brain to accept, to the place she will take you hand in hand and then let it slide. … she literally thought of every detail.
And, well, knowing misty quigley's ability to create plans, the whole thing worked out… until you figured it all out and admitted that you liked it even more, much to her surprise.
laura lee.
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you asked first, of course. there would be no other answer either.
of course, not ruling out the possibility of laura lee asking first, given her hidden impulsive personality, but, in this case, taking the obviousness into account, you asked, and had to be careful with every line said in the invitation.
of course, it needed to be at a time when you were alone, because you were afraid that pressure from other people would make you feel suffocated. this, of course, did not happen. she thought it was a classic weekend outing, like you guys usually did, until she realized your real intentions.
and, truly, at no point did it make her feel restrained or scared. she was ready to be vulnerable and be herself around you, no matter what.
(but, if you casually ask lottie at some point, she will definitely claim that she saw laura lee rehearsing some speeches and compliments for you in the locker room mirror…)
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akookminsupporter · 2 days
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Hey Rosie, hope you are well!! I have a question for you.
Do you think Jungkook will release a documentary/behind the scenes of his Album Golden.
If yes, when in the rollout do you think this will be. We are still in RMay but Jin will be back soon and Festa is around the corner. Jimin music and the Jikook travel show are also in the lineup.
Apart from Tae and Jin, he’s the only member that has not had a in depth production video/ documentary about the making process. We have seen some content already but I believe he implied that he was being filmed/ followed by cameras during a bangtan bomb (can’t remember which one). There was also the Golden listening party that was held that we know about. I’m expecting something but it’s been quite a while since then, (or has it really? The hiatus has been keeping us well fed but with the members all gone I’m feeling their absence and the passage of time more) so would like to know your thoughts.
Also do you think Tae will release anything of the like. After Friends I doubt that he will go back to his previous release but I could be wrong.
Thank you and Stay well :)
Hi Anon, how are you?
Ah, actually Jungkook confirmed that he had recorded a documentary or was in the process of doing so when he talked about it on Yoongi's show.
Now, as for when it will be released, it's hard to say because, as you mentioned, there are still many things yet to be released.
In one of his last wlive before enlistment, jungkook said that we could expect something six months after his enlistment I think, and that could be the documentary about his single/solo album to whatever he filmed with Jimin. Or new music.
So, his doc could be released in June, which means he was referring to that when he mentioned the six months, or it could be released for his birthday. Also, we still don't know anything about the brand he created.
Jin coming back next month isn't necessarily an obstacle to new content from other members because I don't think he'll release anything immediately, so there shouldn't be any problems. Jimin's new music could be released between July and August, perhaps, and whatever Jimin and Jungkook filmed might come out for Festa.
Here's how I see it:
May - part of June: RM
June: Jin returns, a song from one of the boys, maybe one for Army, FESTA, jikook show or Jungkook's documentary.
July, maybe August: new music from Jimin
September maybe October: Jungkook's documentary or the jikook show. Hobi comes back home.
November: a single or EP from Jin
December: A single or documentary from Tae.
Next year: I feel like Hobi will go on tour, like Yoongi did.
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imaginespazzi · 3 days
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Happy night before the WNBA regular season starts to everybody who celebrates! I've gotten a couple of asks about trying to get into the W and which teams to support etc. etc. The best way to actually get into it, as with anything, is probably to just start watching games and seeing what team you vibe with. But I also figured I'd give y'all a ranking of my support of teams based solely on my opinion, partly based on player/playing style and partly based on vibes.
New York Liberty: Listen, I'm not actually a Liberty fan if we're honest but Breanna Stewart is my GOAT, and my favorite player of all time. Therefore where she goes, I go. Also on the Liberty, we have JJ who I adore (and has apparently locked a new level) and Betnijah Laney who is so underrated but so fucking good. If you're gonna root for the Liberty, a reminder that Sandy Brondello might have coached a team to a championship, but it doesn't mean she isn't gonna make you question her coaching at least once every game. When the Liberty are great, they're GREAT. When they're not, well...
Connecticut Sun: The closest I have to a home team and home to the most versatile player in the country, Alyssa Thomas. Can do everything, will do everything and is still so underrated. Brionna Jones is back from injury this year and I'm so excited for her and DB to be a lethal frontcourt duo. And if you're here for the Huskies, MoJeff is back home baby and I have a feeling ONO is going to take a big step this year. The issue with the Sun is they are very much always a bridesmaid, never a bride meaning they make it to the semis/finals but never win, will things change? Stay tuned!
Seattle Storm: For the longest time, because of Stewie, this was my team and I'll always have a soft-spot for them. They've gone out and made themselves into a super team of sorts with a core-4 of SDS-Jewell-Nneka-Ezi and while the pre-season hasn't quite shown that super team, I think time to gel will make them as good as ever. They also have a young core that I'm really excited to watch them develop with Nika (MY GIRL MADE IT) and Jordan Horston. Seattle's culture is one of the best in the league and while they might not win this year, if you're looking to stan for a long time, Seattle, with new team ownership member Sue Bird, is a solid choice!
Minnesota Lynx: The dynasty in rebuild. If a man hadn't ruined it, this would still be Maya Moore's team and she would be the face of the league but I digress. You know who the Lynx do have though? Napheesa. Fucking. Collier. My girl has been underrated for so much of her career, robbed of so many things (*cough* NPOY her senior year *cough*) but watch, this year or the next, Phee is gonna make the league give her her things i.e she's gonna be MVP. Also in Minny, your all-Rookie team favorites Dorka and Diamond are back and my girl AP is also in the mix. Again like Seattle, this is a team with a solid winning culture and if you wanna be here a long time, Cheryl Reeve will figure it out.
Washington Mystics: No Elena Delle-Donne and Mike Thibault is clearly tanking for Paige (mans is literally admitting it this not an assumption) so if this is your team, you'll be good soon, but probably not this year. Despite that thought, the Mystics always just kinda figure it out a little bit and I'm excited to see how Shakira Austin develops. And of course my MVLi is on the Mystics and she's gonna get a lot of playing time and I'm just very excited for her.
Phoenix Mercury: The Mercury have no business being this high on any list I know but they have DT and BG and I'm always gonna love those two. How far can a coach whose only qualification is basically being a "girl dad" take a WNBA team? Well I guess we'll find out (it's looking unlikely). Also the potential for drama on this team is always high because if you've seen the infamous picture, they have Kahleah Copper and Sophia Cunningham, what could possibly go wrong right?
LA Sparks: Before we get into now, let's get into the past because this team once upon a time had Nneka-Candace-Chelsea and fumbled all three. Just think about that. ANYWAYS moving on, Curt Miller (traitor of all time) is an interesting character, some love him, some hate him, but most can agree he's relatively a good coach. I genuinely do not know what's gonna happen but I think Rickea and Cam have the potential to become one of the best duos in the league eventually. Also Kia Nurse? Apparently in a mood to be a menace and I'm here for it.
Dallas Wings: Arike and Satou. That is it. That is all. I personally think Dallas is one good move (idk what move but it definitely wasn't a good move to trade Crystal) away from becoming a perennial championship contender. Arike and Satou is a good duo to start with but they're missing something and I can't quite put my finger on it. Either way, this is team built for offense and when they're winning, it's fun to watch, when they're not well...it's a good thing I'm not that invested. ALSO LOU IS BACK FOR THEM THIS YEAR!!
Indiana Fever: Never underestimate the Fever's ability to fuck it up. A lot of new fans are about to realize that this franchise does not know what the fuck they're doing for the most part. You hope having two generational talents in AB and CC will change that and I genuinely hope it does, because I would love to have them higher on my list. But for now, with absolutely no trust in anybody on that coaching staff, I'mma just watch it play out and hope for the best. Also shoutout Nalyssa Smith who I think is gonna get overlooked but have a great season.
Las Vegas Aces: Is it blasphemous to have the reigning champs this low? Potentially but blasphemy is also in treating a pregnant woman like shit and not putting your teammate with domestic violence charges/allegations on blast. Listen I'm not a complete hater and I do genuinely think the world of A'ja Wilson and Chelsea Gray. But I hate their us vs the world mentality and I'm not a huge Becky Hammon fan (that woman can coach her ass off though). Despite all of that, Vegas is still a fun team to watch and I expect them to continue to be the best team in the league.
Chicago Sky: GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE JAMES WADE. The Sky are this low for me solely because it feels like a brand new team. They've lost a lot and gained a lot and I'm so excited to see Angel and Kamilla be the twin towers. More than anything I'm very excited to see T-Spoon as their head coach. Ngl though, beyond that, nothing really moves me and the Sky as an organization, we all saw the press conference room, really, really, really don't move me.
Atlanta Dream: Honestly they just kinda dropped this low for no reason other than for some reason, I just don't really care about them? But it's also because I keep forgetting that they have Tina. Fucking. Charles on their team now, which means if I ever do this again, they'll be much higher because Tina Charles is AMAZING and I love her and she raises this ceiling of this team to something else. Also very excited to see Rhyne Howard progress along with her.
That was long for no reason really and I think it was more me ranting then anything of actual help but it's W season lovelies, prepare to potentially be sick of me! WBB IS BACK!!
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cozcat · 2 days
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One thing I am desperately hoping to see in season 3 of Wheel of Time is the girls going back to the White Tower, and a big part of this is to ensure Egwene's link to it is cemented before she becomes Amyrlin. I also desperately want her to have done her Accepted test, and I would like to see it. So, a while back, @fuel-prices and I had a big conversation about this, and this is where I've landed on the three arches. Full spoilers ahead.
Egwene is called to her test. Siuan may be there, or we may introduce Anaiya onscreen, or we may see Lelaine - as Sheriam isn't in season 3. But that's not the important part. She goes into the arches, ter'angreal or no ter'angreal: I could see Egwene being a Dreamer being an altering factor itself.
Be steadfast.
The first test: she wakes up somewhere familiar, and not. The Mountains of Mist are home, but the city around her is not. An attack is coming, and coming again, and they have been abandoned - by other cities, by the White Tower; all they have to protect their land, their children, is their own bodies. And Egwene - Eldrene - knows what she must do. All the power she can summon, and then some, and she must, and she will - but she cannot, because the way back will come but once.
(In this, we lean into the 1x03 focus on Egwene at Eldrene's death, and fully commit to her being a reincarnation of Eldrene. We can foreshadow her becoming Amyrlin elsewhere - let's foreshadow her death some more!)
The second test: horrors, and to the horrors that await her in the present. She is in the Two Rivers - maybe Wisdom, after Nynaeve's death; maybe not. "The Trollocs are coming again, and the Whitecloaks have left us." Maybe she sees her parents, other characters we know; maybe she sees Rand, Perrin, Mat, Nynaeve. Perhaps Perrin, as it leans into foreshadowing. But the way back will come but once, and she cannot save the ones she loves from the Whitecloaks.
(There is precedent for this. Egwene does dream of a bunch of foreshadowing of the Battle of the Two Rivers - this is just another way to do it. And we did consider the Seanchan here, but it feels, well, too obvious - why not go for a less expected test, rather than the obvious, just to heighten how much Egwene being a Dreamer is affecting it?)
The third test: horrors, and horrors again, and in for the final set of them. But horrors do not await. Instead, a group of tanned women, their eyes looking older than their faces, in algode shirts and skirts, in a red sea of sand. "Egwene, you will come to us, and you will know when that must be, just as you know now from where you will leave." And all Egwene can do now is wait, because this is all the third arch will be. The way back comes, and Egwene is waiting for it, staring at the spot she knows now that it will appear; she walks out of the third arch with her head held high and her back straight.
And so, Egwene knows she needs to go. She eventually learns to Travel using Tel'aran'rhiod - why not use it now, so she uses it to travel to the Wise Ones, and use it again later, when she decides to leave them to travel to Salidar? And, her traumas are her own, so no sense to mention it. (Plus, the secrecy from Nynaeve and Elayne will help divide them further emotionally.) Siuan will find a way to get Nynaeve and Elayne out of the Tower and hunting Black Ajah for sport - she'll send Egwene after them when she comes, but Egwene is gone, and cannot be sent.
I found that on rereading it, Egwene's test all revolves around Rand, and Egwene being unable to protect him - which is odd if not entirely pointless to do onscreen, because, at the end of season 2, she protected him. Also, a lot of her test is stuff we've seen elsewhere in the show. We've seen Nynaeve lose her child. We've seen Rand have the provincial life with Egwene and their daughter, Joiya. We've foreshadowed Egwene becoming Amyrlin and can do that in so many other ways. We've seen the Accepted test go wrong. We don't need those as repeat beats, so why not something else entirely?
And so, this is something else entirely.
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shivasdarknight · 1 year
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@koopytron
Forgive my ignorance, but doesn't a set like this help expose people to cultures that they might not have known about? What about players that live in that country and want to dress up in their traditional clothes, are they not allowed to?
I’m responding over here mostly because my reply got a bit long.
First off, I’m no authority on the Sámi.  I want to make that very clear - I’m just echoing what has been said so far by people who have a vested interest in this gear’s removal.  And again, I want to reiterate by pointing out that for information your best bets are the initial letter to Square Enix, as well as this thread by a Sámi player.
The argument for exposure looks nice on paper, but usually isn’t ever executed well - especially in the case of the Far Northern attire.  FFXIV isn’t set up to teach people about cultures (unless it’s Stormblood and the two different fantasy Japans), it’s set up to use cultures as an aesthetic to give each nation a bit of flavor.  Thavnair is India, Ul’dah is your typical desert city, the elves are French, Ala Mhigans are Kurdish and Armenian, Xaela are Mongolian etc etc.  And how much care that goes into representing and educating players about these cultures varies depending on who it is and if Square cares about them.  And every instance of an indigenous culture has been the exact opposite.  Even their treatment of the Xaela and Ala Mhigans are extremely demeaning, but that’s a different topic altogether.
If Square had any interest in exposing people to Sámi culture, they would have contacted the tribe for a collaboration and make them have more of a presence in game than just a glam item that costs $18USD.  They would’ve also done research into what gákti actually look like, and maybe named each piece appropriately.  Instead, we have an offensive caricature that costs $18USD, doesn’t have any cultural presence in the game, and is nothing but a disconnected costume meant to line their paychecks.  And as a reminder: the Sámi were never contacted, Square has not reached out after this demand, and they’ve received no money for Square using their material culture for profit.  What’s sad is Disney did better than them after Frozen, as they similarly appropriated their regalia and even took their music.  Frozen 2 saw them collaborating and the film was even released in one of the Sámi languages, though I’m not entirely sure if they ever saw any amount of the film’s revenue - if someone happens to see this and they know, feel free to correct me.
I think the more important thing here is: do we even want Square to be exposing players to Sámi culture?  Because they do not have a good track record when it concerns portraying indigenous cultures.  Anyone can feel free to add in stuff I’ve missed, but there are plenty examples through the entire Final Fantasy franchise - including, but not limited to: including monsters that have roots in nativist imagery (anthropophage) but naming them after a particular spirit in Algonquin folklore that people keep asking to not be named or included in media; the entirety of Red XIII’s character (even the name he’s introduced by, despite him actually being named Nanaki); the initial portrayal of the Ronso in X (that then got “sophisticated” into the suddenly Icelandic Hrothgar); and the palewashing of Viera (mesoamerican indigenous coded in XII) in the jump to XIV by only focusing on the palest of individuals and making most of them white-looking.
And then there’s the stuff in XIV.  Most of the Tribes (which up until recently were literally known as beast tribes) up until Stormblood are based in some racist depiction of indigenous peoples - like Square did all of their research through racist American movies from the past century.  Many speak in the stilted English you’d see in racist advertisements and media (eg. the Vanu Vanu, and the yoda-like speak of the Ixal), they’re all anthropomorphized animals to some degree and not at all...y’know, human; you spend a significant amount of the game hunting them and being rewarded for doing so (especially if you do daily Clan Centurio marks), many are based on real cultures (Ixal are clearly meso-/south american, Vanu Vanu literally have totems and everything), and the Amalj’aa embody the entire Noble Savage trope to a T (only source for this is unfortunately Wikipedia because everything else was paywalled or didn’t touch on how racist this is).  We only saw this shift in not calling them “beast” tribes anymore around Stormblood because we suddenly got the Kojin (respected merchants based on Kappa), and the Namazu - techincally also the Lupin, but the shared factor is that they’re all predominant Japanese cultures that they’d never bastardize because the entire Doma half of Stormblood is them drinking the Japanese Imperialism kool-aid (again, another topic altogether and best discussed by someone like the journalist, Kazuma Hashimoto - who goes into it a lot on streams).  After that, we saw a deemphasis on indigenous cultures in the tribe quests and the removal of the name once Dwarves, Pixies, Arkosodara, Loporrits, and Omicrons were added.  Qitari are loosely here because they are the First equivalent of the Qiqirn, but they’d still “fit” in the old category by Square’s measure.
And then of course the Whalaqee, the entire New World nonsense, how they portray the Mamool’ja (who are from the “New World”), and the entire racist premise of the BLU questline.  Which is literally just “White Savior is the only one who can save this dying native tribe from evil oil ceruleum barons who brought diseases over, and your main reps are two animal looking guys and a very pale native boy like the tropes from the old movies”.  And yes, this is where the racist New World gear comes in, because that’s the clothing every single member of the Whalaqee wear despite it being a disgusting caricature of ceremonial gear with the war bonnet and everything.  The Mamool’ja are also frequently depicted as unintelligent and only suited for war, and are extremely sexual and there’s a fate where one gets kicked out of the Camp Bronze Lake baths for being too sexual.  Which again: nativist stereotypes that don’t just apply to indigenous tribes of the Americas, but also Japan’s own indigenous peoples - especially the Ryuukyuuan!
The New World gear wasn’t put in there to expose players to indigenous cultures.  They included a racist caricature so people could play dress up with those pieces, and locking their (racist) context behind a side quest most people skip or ignore.  And what ends up happening is whenever I do see players wearing it, it’s almost never people of those cultures doing it “for their own sake” - as it’s a racist caricature and not actually their cultural clothing or what they’d wear - it’s instead people playing out the racist caricatures.  I’ve seen white catgirls with neon pink war bonnets and bikinis, I’ve seen literal red-skinned players in the full get up, and many other offensive costumes that’s come as a result of this set being in the game.
But that set is obtainable through normal gameplay.  The Far Northern set is paywalled, making this especially egregious that it’s a racist caricature of Sámi regalia that they’re making a load of money off of.
There is no in game “Far Northern” culture - it’s just a racist costume for players (and they’re designing this for the majority white, and Yamato Japanese player base) to play dress up with.  They design the game with dominant cultures in mind (hence why everything is so heavy handed with European and Japanese aesthetics and gear, but there’s a suspicious lack of Korean and SWANA names, material culture, etc. when both exist in the game in their own ways through “Far Eastern” attire and Ala Mhigan stuff).  If they’d had any intention on exposing the players to Sámi culture, they would’ve contacted the Sámi for sensitivity or even just copyright issues.
But they didn’t.
Exposing and teaching other people about cultures varies depending on who you’re talking about.  It’s especially sensitive when you have a matter of appropriating not only a minority culture, but one that’s being suffocated by colonization and majority culture appropriation.  It’s why it’s not really an issue that places like Ishgard are a few mixes of European stuff, or that Hingashi is based in Japan pre-border opening, but it’s a major issue for them to bastardize Mongolian, Armenian, Kurdish, and the various indigenous cultures that they have in their inclusion through the Xaela (described as barbaric, and “will eventually be their own extinction” according to the Namazu quests), the Ala Mhigans (who are not treated with the same level of dignity or respect as the Domans, and are portrayed as aggressive and lower class), and the ARR-HVW tribe quests + the Whalaqee (see the above).
It’s fine to want to expose people to other cultures.  You just have to do it on the terms of the cultures themselves.  And going behind the backs of the Sámi people and creating a racist costume that costs $18USD isn’t exposing anyone to their culture (if they did, it’s through discourse like this); it’s just Square making money off of a racist costume so people can play dress up with regalia that isn’t theirs.
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wren-kitchens · 1 year
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something I Hate is when i’ve told someone that I don’t know what you’re feeling unless you tell me, I don’t know what tone you’re conveying half the time unless you tell me, then that someone getting annoyed because I didn’t know they were upset/didn’t know they were being sarcastic and acting like I should have known despite me telling them specifically on multiple occasions
#an irl friend was saying a couple weeks ago how she wanted to audition for a drama thing but didn’t wanna get rejected#so we were like ‘you don’t have to go if you don’t wanna’ and she was like ‘but I wanna go’ so we told her to go#‘but I don’t wanna get rejected’ so don’t go!#it sorta went back and forth for a little bit before she got mad and walked off and later was annoyed at me for not knowing she was upset#and for saying the wrong thing#I have told you??? so many times??? that I do not know when people are upset???#she didn’t even like tell me what I should have said#I found out from a friend that I should have told her she wouldn’t get rejected but like. that’s always an option#it’s unlikely in this case but that’s not like a definite thing that’s not gonna happen#and ik from like past experiences she would be more upset if we’d gone ‘no you’ll def get in’ and she didn’t because it’d be like we lied#and I don’t wanna make her upset!#but I mean like. I did#idk i’m just very bad when it comes to helping people#it’s really annoying#and I didn’t even know she was upset! like I couldn’t tell so I didn’t try to make her feel better because I didn’t know she felt bad!#I don’t understand emotion! I can’t figure out my own half the time and i’m the one experiencing them!#idk it was like a couple weeks ago but i’m still kinda mad#because I *keep* telling her that I don’t know what to say when ppl are upset I don’t know how people are feeling unless they say#and she just acts like I *do* know and am just being a dick on purpose#idk it annoys me a lot#autism#actually autistic#vent cw#cw vent#vent tw#tw vent
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automatic-midnight · 16 days
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My biased, really unpopular take is that I think rit/su/maya is an objectively boring ship.
#just to be clear I don’t hate it there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the ship it’s just such a nothing burger to me#like ok yes without a doubt Maya has a crush on Ritusko absolutely this is backed up by canon material#but from Ritsukos side the most the viewer comes away with is that Ritsuko holds mayas skills in decently high regard#a few moments of friendly chit chat and that’s it#it would be one thing if we actually saw Ritsukos more personal opinions on Maya but we never see that so fandom has to fill in the blanks#and now barring that all aside it’s just a ship dynamic even when fleshed out in fanon that im not intrigued by#in a show where the characters are so messy and terrible the ship feels so out of place#ohhhh Maya could fix Ritsuko NO she could not#the only way I could find the ship interesting is if you get weird with it#like focus on the inherent power imbalance of a boss and an employee how would they deal with that?#how would things change as the show progresses and Maya realizes Rituskos blurred morals#how would the ship work with Gendo in the picture? how would Maya actually help ritusko overcome her issues and deep rooted problems#and even with all that being said it’s just not interesting to me#Maya doesn’t have enough going as a character for me to care to ship her with Ritsuko#this is partly why I like misaritsu so much#you know so much about their individual characters and their dynamics that it’s easy to expand it further into hypothesizing#their relationship in a romantic light#evangelion#like misato and Ritsuko are individually super well written fleshed our characters and on top of that put in moments like the elevator scene#or Ritsukos flashback to talking about when Misato hooked up with Kaji for a week#or just every time Ritsuko looks at Misato if you really want to reach#there so many moments of good characterization between them that it’s so easy to ship them#the point I’ll give to ritsu/Maya is that the one sided crush is 100% intentional and implied in canon#Misato and Ritsukos relationship (as far as I’m aware) was never intended to be romantic or queer coded or anything like that#i’m not delusional#I don’t think anno or sadamoto was writing subtextual nuclear toxic yuri when they were thinking about Misato and ritsukos relationship#no one was in the writing room saying “oh boy I can’t wait to write subtext about how comphet Ritsuko is in unrequited love with Misato”#I’m not that far gone but purely from a potential ship perspective misaritsu has so much more going for it#asu/rei too that’s another super interesting f/f ship that people ignore#asurei isn’t my do or die ship but that’s a ship that’s genuinely super interesting to think about as a potential romantic relationship
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osaemu · 5 months
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GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW
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✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW
contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.
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“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”
satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.
two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.
“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”
“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 
the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.
“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”
you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”
“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”
“ugh, fine.”
two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.
“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”
satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”
“you’re not smooth.”
“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”
“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”
satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.
“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.
“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”
anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.
“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.
“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”
“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 
satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.
“what, we were just talki—”
“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 
“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.
“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.
“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.
he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”
“what?” you decide to humor him.
satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.
“this.” 
and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 
“gojo, what the—”
“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.
in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.
what a shame.
satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 
“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.
you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.
“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”
“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”
that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.
you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 
“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 
you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 
sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 
“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.
“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.
satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 
“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.
still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.
“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”
“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 
“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 
satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”
you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”
“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 
“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.
“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”
from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.
“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”
you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”
satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”
“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.
“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”
satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”
“you’re an asshole.”
before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 
“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 
suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”
“heh, no, not yet.”
ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 
“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.
well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!
12K notes · View notes
saetoru · 10 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours
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synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his
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— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)
— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!
— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys
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satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.
“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.
“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”
“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.
“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”
“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.
he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”
“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”
“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”
“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”
“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”
“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.
“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”
“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”
“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.
even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”
“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.
satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.
he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.
you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.
so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?
and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.
you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.
satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.
he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.
“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”
“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”
“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”
“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.
everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.
“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”
he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”
“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”
“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”
“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”
“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”
his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.
you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.
“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.
“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.
“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”
“got it,” you nod furiously.
“got what?”
“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”
“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”
“just what?” he raises a brow.
“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.
he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.
your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.
“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”
“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”
“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”
“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”
“say you love me,” he demands.
it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”
and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.
and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.
satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.
“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”
“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”
he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.
it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.
he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.
satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.
when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.
“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”
“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.
“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”
and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.
but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.
it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.
and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.
“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”
“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”
“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”
“how long do you plan on being mine?”
“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”
“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”
“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”
“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”
“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.
“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”
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dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this
14K notes · View notes
selineram3421 · 4 months
Note
здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора
Translated:
Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?
Yes.
Jealousy Headcanons
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Alastor X Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠
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Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?
He always had your attention.
You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.
Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.
But now it was quite odd.
There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.
Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.
He watched from the bar.
"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.
"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"
Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.
"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.
Far too close for his liking.
"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."
He didn't like this demon.
Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-
"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.
The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.
"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.
It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.
"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"
"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.
"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.
That's ENOUGH!
He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.
"I believe they said no."
The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.
"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."
"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.
His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.
"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"
"The slut-"
SNAP
He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.
"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."
His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.
"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"
You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.
"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."
And then you gave him that lovely smile.
"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."
"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.
He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.
After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.
You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.
Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.
Just like he wanted
"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."
"I can't wait to see what you make this time."
Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.
Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.
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I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
7K notes · View notes
snowsinterlude · 5 months
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need someone older.
(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)
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summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.
c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal
being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.
thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.
when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.
you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.
"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.
"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.
"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.
his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.
and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.
"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.
"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"
"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.
"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.
"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.
"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.
"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.
"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.
"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.
"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."
"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.
"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.
"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.
you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"
he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.
"keep it." he said once you took the ring
"but- s-sir, i-"
"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.
he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.
"i hope you know what that means."
"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.
"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."
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mostly-imagines · 24 days
Text
Guard Dog vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II
3 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader
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“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”
You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.
You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”
He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”
“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”
You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”
“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”
You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”
He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”
“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.
“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.
You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.
You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.
He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.
You laugh lightly, “What?”
He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”
You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.
“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”
“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.
He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”
You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”
He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”
“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.
“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.
No, it’s not fair at all.
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It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.
You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—
The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.
You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.
“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”
He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.
He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.
He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.
“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.
You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”
He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”
You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.
He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.
Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.
He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.
As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.
You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.
Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.
He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.
He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.
He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”
You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
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Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.
The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.
And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.
At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.
You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.
Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.
He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.
He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.
You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.
“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”
His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”
You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”
“Jason—”
“Who did it?”
“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”
The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.
“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.
“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.
He stares at you. “In the hallway?”
You blink. “…Yeah?”
He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.
You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.
“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.
He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.
“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.
He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.
The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.
Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.
Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.
You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.
You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.
Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”
No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.
“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.
He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”
You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.
“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.
You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”
“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.
This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.
“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.
You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”
He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.
You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”
Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.
“Hey, bud.”
He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.
Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”
He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”
He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”
He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”
Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.
Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”
The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”
Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”
“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”
Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.
“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.
Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”
The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.
Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”
Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.
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alfheimr · 25 days
Text
My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
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this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
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the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
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this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
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for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
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so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
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these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
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this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
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gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
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some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
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here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
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i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
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i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
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yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
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i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
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the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
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let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
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just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
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backwzzds · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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