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twst-drabbles · 4 months

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Soulmates AU: Idia

Summary: You were born with a run-on sentence for a soulmate mark on your arm, from wrist to shoulder. Now you finally met the man that utters these words by a trashcan.

(I was requested and wrote this long number. Over 4000 words all written within the span of four days. I wrote this for @twst-charity. Not gonna lie, pretty proud that I wrote this much in that span of time. Been a while since I could do that, though I did end up pulling a muscle in my neck. I hope this is a fun read. It's also on ao3 as well. Right here.)

The writings you were born with were practically illegible at birth. The font was rather fancy, overly so, and the words circled around from your wrist to your shoulder so tightly that your family was convinced it was a giant birth mark and not the words of your soulmate.

But you grew and so did the spaces in those words. It was a pretty spiral, but as age continued to feed you wisdom, you felt that this position was deliberate. Because, as far as you knew, this first sentence could very well be the ramblings of someone going mad or already is. But first words are hardly something to build assumptions on, especially when it comes to the subject of your soulmate.

These words covering your arm are about a fictional character named Alexius von Tuveria en Ris. Well, at least you hope it’s fictional. It’s kind of a silly name to give to a kid. And also you’re not exactly up for having a soulmate that’s this, uh, verbose and opinionated about an actual person. You’ve been exposed to the deeper parts of the celebrity fan culture and you’re good with staying far away from it.

…Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick…

That was only part of the sentence on your arm. Your soulmate, where ever they are, they sure do talk a lot. Like, a whole lot. You tried repeating the sentence on your arm in just one breath and you had to practice a few years just to get it right. Strong lungs on that one, probably.

And a whole lot of unique factors to help narrow down the pool of who is and who isn’t your soulmate. Alexius von Tuveria en Ris is a pretty unique name by itself. But, the uniqueness of it did return disappointment, since searching online for a character with such a name yielded no results. You made it a habit to search at least once a week or so, just in case it was a series that has yet to exist.

You were also sort of relieved to find out that there was no royal family with a similar name. Though, that still didn’t rule out the possibility. For all you know, this could be a fake name someone chose for themselves.

Either way, this name will come to exist at some point, someone or something will be Alexius von Tuveria en Ris, and you’d have to make sure to be on top of that.

But, then you couldn’t, because suddenly you found yourself in a place called Night Raven College. One minute you were living your regular life, and the next you found duty after duty from your “oh so kind” headmage with a cat that doesn’t learn to listen when he should.

It was… an adjustment certainly. The grating egos of everyone here, the casual and not so casual use of magic that can and will kill you if it hits you in just the right way, and large restrictions on your finances rarely left you with more than a few complaints, but all you could do was grit your teeth and trudge on.

At least, despite all of these annoyances and difficulties, there are some silver linings to the found here. Magic itself was something of a marvel to witness, you won’t lie to yourself about that. You will never say it out loud for anyone to head though, because you know the minute you do, people like Grim will gloat and unintentionally belittle you with a, “Well, something as simple as that would look amazing to you, huh?”

And out of a need to never hear those words uttered by anyone, you decided to use one of your privileges to lock yourself in the computer lab. It’s after curfew, so most of the students not in remedial classes are at their dorms by now.

Next to you were a couple of spiral notebooks, the blue one opened and already filled to the brim with notes about basic magic mechanics. Sure, you can’t do a single lick of magic as far as you can tell, but you don’t want to make the blunder of relying on your preconceived notions of it.

Though, as with all studying, even on a subject as interesting as this, your brain starts to fuzz up and suddenly you can’t even retain the current paragraph. Your eyes kept skimming over the same words over and over. Finally, you huffed and slumped back in your chair, setting your pencil aside.

Though, before you decide to call it quits and rest for the night, you felt one more search would be interesting. You pushed up your sleeve until you found the name of Alexius von Tuveria en Ris on your forearm, and typed that into the blinking bar.

Hehe, the name looked a little funny in this cutesy font this search engine uses. You weren’t expecting anything honestly. You’ve already cut your losses with meeting your soulmate young. You’ve had cousins and other distant relatives that haven’t met their soulmates until they were in their seventies. Knowing how that bird-brained Crowley works, you’ll probably return back home when you’re at least in your forties. Or fifties.

He’s really taking his sweet-ass time, huh?

Either way, you pressed enter and stretched. Nothing to come of it and nothing to lose with this simple search, right? You’ve already been through the phase of obsessively searching every day back when you were younger and had too much time. At this point, it does no harm to search at least once. You mean, why not?

But, it was a hit. Several pages of hits. At the top of the pastel blue search engine was Alexius von Tuveria en Ris in all bold. In fact, from the title of the website, you’d say it was an entire site dedicated to this character.

Here it was. The very thing you’ve searching for, waiting for, was right in front of your eyes.

You didn’t say anything, you just clicked. Paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed information about this person–a fictional character–laid before you. You nearly ripped your sleeve up your arm as you scrolled down the page, looking between the screen and your skin as you confirmed that what you’re reading is correct and not just a huge coincidence that’s made to make fun of you for having hope.

The name matches, the background of isolating himself in his castle matches, the huge blow out after attempting to revive his Kingdom of Paradise matches. All of it matches your arm.

You let go of the mouse, eyes burning from staring at a white screen with black text for too long, and just sat. You stared up at the ceiling…

…and quietly seethed.

For months you’ve been wanting to go back home, and often in the middle of the night, you’d find yourself wishing you never got transported here in the first place. Some part of you buried deep was starting to believe that you would never go home, and if you knew that the option of exploring a magical place came with the consequence of never going home, you never would have taken it.

But now your arm and this screen was telling you that you had no choice but to come here. That it was destined, preordained. No matter how hard you fought, you were going to be whisked away.

It… it sucked, you will admit that.

But you sighed out all the doubts and breathed in realistic optimism. You came here one way, there has to be a way out. It happened once, so it’s logical that it would happen again.

And so, with a light stretching of your sore fingers and wrists, you clicked and read as much information you can. Absorbing the series that’s apparently been running for a good twenty years with a handful of remakes and one live action that flopped on its face.

Before you know it, it was way past the dead of night and encroaching on morning. You took a minute to stretched and rub at your strained eyes before packing everything up. You’re going to regret doing all this in the morning, when classes start, but what can you say? You like living in the moment.

You walked out, locked everything up with the keys Crowley entrusted you with, and started down the path towards your dorm. Sure, you do have permission to use the mirrors on campus, but you’re pretty sure you need someone with magic to be able to use the thing. Or you probably don’t, for all you know, but you’re not in the mood to test the theory.

You found yourself on a cross section at the road that served as a nice resting spot before heading to Sam’s shop. It had a couple of fancy black benches with gaudy gold legs, a fountain so large you’re glad you don’t have to clean it, and a lot of foliage for that beautiful view and clean air.

With all these sights nicely lit by the evenly spaced lamps to take in, instead your eyes settled on someone that chose to huddle by a trashcan. You heard crinkling and, at first, you thought this person was riffling through the trash. You got closer, and while you can’t say you were wrong, the only thing in this man’s hands was a poster.

Then, finally, you were within earshot.

“And just when I found the perfect poster, I find it in a trash can of all things, wrinkled up and thrown away because some ignorant idiot thought this was only worth as much as a piece of paper,”

Kind a rambler huh? Sounds like he’s having a bad day. Or night. Should probably just leave him alone.

…

Hold on a moment.

You pulled up your sleeve.

“Couldn’t have the decency to give this limited edition poster back for people like me, who truly appreciate the series, to own, but no of course not, it would be inconvenient, horrible that they would wrinkle the main character’s Kingdom of Paradise that he’s always dreamed of, Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick–AH there’s a tear because of course,”

You were twisting your arm this way and that, making very sure that this random man’s rant actually matched your words. You almost pulled a muscle as he continued, eyes and neck straining to read the words on your shoulders.

You lost your balance and caught yourself just as the man before you stopped his rant with a huff.

Before he could possibly start again, you walked right behind him and said, “So you’re the dude that inked up my arm.”

Ah, you didn’t really have any special words in mind, like a lot of your classmates back in your younger days. Yes, you’re buzzing a little with excitement, but you’re so tired and drained from another emotional high that you’re in a fog. Besides, you already confirmed that this person’s your soulmate, whatever pops out of your mouth will be just as unique.

“Eep!” A high little squeak of a yelp. The student–his jacket held Ignihyde designs on it–retreated his arms to his chest, like he’s ready to either lash out or curl into a ball.

He would’ve fell backwards if your legs didn’t stop his fall.

“Whoops,” you pushed him to his feet with a hand to his shoulder, “sorry about that. You okay?”

Only then did he finally turn. His hood fell from his face and unleashed an absolute bonfire of hair. A luminous bright blue that almost blinded you.

And suddenly, his hair turned an almost violent mix of pink and purple.

He blinked, then his eyes flickered from your face to his wrist, where your words are. The man opened his mouth but his voice didn’t scream so much as it whistled before dashed to the left. He sped crawled on all fours for a moment before finding his footing.

This man, whom you would eventually find out to be called Idia, ran away upon first meeting you, his soulmate.

You weren’t offended in the least. You can understand that being seen mumbling like a maniac by a trashcan isn’t the best way to be seen by your fated soulmate. So, with that in mind, you didn’t search out for him for about three days.

By day four, you got impatient and decided to hunt down for Idia since he has not even left a hint hint about wanting to meet you. A week would’ve been the original waiting time, but this college really takes a toll on you and you just want this done before you get dragged into another magical situation.

The first day, you waited by a classroom you knew Idia attended. Well, Idia’s tablet. Being a housewarden and not a regular student, it’s rather easy to stumble upon information about him. Egocentric students love to gossip when it’s framed to either make their dorm or themselves look better.

You saw a peek of a magical tablet and grabbed without hesitation.

“Ha?” You heard clicking and felt the tablet attempt to leave your hands. You turned it around and faced the built in camera.

“Hey,” you greeted as causally as you could, “Idia, right? Met you a few nights before–”

Another click, and suddenly your entire vision went white with a flash of light. You dropped the tablet.

By the time your eyes went back to normal, the tablet was gone and you were alone again.

“So, that’s how it going to be, huh?” You’ve had your fair share of runaways. In fact, your little group was mostly made of them, running away for one reason or another, like not wanting to go to class, or avoiding cleaning duties for a mess they’ve made. This was not a new situation for you.

If Idia thinks he can run away from you forever, he has another thing coming.

The next day, you found the tablet floating in the library. You got a ladder to grab it from the bottom, but you weren’t quiet enough when you climbed it. The tablet floated right past your fingertips and dashed out the door with a “Sorry!”

Well, at least he apologized. But you still want to talk!

Another day passes and you found the man physically just as you were about to walk out the classroom. He had a stack of papers in his hands, late assignments he had to turn in physically if he wanted a chance at passing apparently. He didn’t see you, so you retreated behind the door.

When you saw Idia’s figure pass by the door, you popped out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Idia,” you firmly said with a tightening grip on his frozen shoulder, “we need to talk.”

And you were meet with a tower of papers to the face and he was gone before you dug through the pile.

By that point, you were ready and willing to start dragging your other friends into the mix. You let this skittish soulmate of yours to run off the first few times because you didn’t want to stress him out too much. But, by this point in time, it would be better to throw caution to the wind if only so you two can actually sit down and have a talk.

But, by the next morning, before you could meet up with everyone, a robot kid you recognize as Ortho shot out of the sky and landed with surprising grace. At the price of leaves and dirt flooding your mouth.

“There you are!” His voice was loud but it wasn’t grating. It was a cute kind of loud, like he was happy to see you.

You spat on the ground and leaned against a tree, still groggy from waking up. “Ortho, right? Hello. You need something? I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“To make a plan to catch my big brother right?”

His accuracy left you stunned.

“Uh.”

“Then, please come with me!” Ortho grabbed your arm and enthusiastically, “I keep telling my brother to suck it up and meet you, but he just won’t!”

“I know that,” you gritted your teeth, feeling like your shoulder will pop out of its socket, “Mind telling me where you’re taking me though.”

“I’m taking you to–” Ortho paused, floated behind you and grabbed your shoulder, “Hold on, this will be faster. We’re going to Ignihyde!”

“Wha–?” But you were forced to eat your words, just when it was finally free of all dirt and leaves.

And before you know it, you were gently placed on your feet in front of the Ignihyde dorm.

“Huh.” If you delete the last few minutes from your mind, you’d say it was a pretty enjoyable ride. Quick, at least.

“So, future soulmate of my big brother,” You’re pretty sure he knows who you are, you’re not exactly a quiet presence with that monster fire cat always around, “I have to do other things, so you just have to go down these paths and you’ll be in front of his room! Just make sure he doesn’t run away, okay?”

Ortho even gave you a little note that straight up looked printed. A clear map of where Idia’s room is.

“Well, thanks,” you turned around to properly face him but Ortho was already blasting off into the sky with a wave.

You huffed out a laugh, just because the whole interaction was ridiculous, and went on your way. You don’t really have early morning classes to be late to, anyway. You just came early to prepare for chasing after Idia.

As much as you would like to take the time to admire the hallways of the Ignihyde dorm, you’re too eager to get this meeting over with.

And then you’re finally in front of Idia’s room. You reach out to knock but the door pulls open, as though avoiding your knuckles. Idia was there, hood over his head like he was going to sneak around again like the first time you’ve met him. He spotted you in a second and slammed the door right in your face.

You waited a few minutes just to see if some miracle would happen and Idia opens the door on his own.

He didn’t.

“I’m not moving from here, if you’re wondering.”

You heard a sharp gasp and then a heavy, shaky, defeated sigh.

“…of course you’re not…” And then heard the slide of fabric against the door before a soft thud at the bottom.

He sat down, and so you got yourself comfortable as well.

“So,” you leaned back on your hands, “you’ve been running away from me.”

“I have…” and then under his breath like he thought you wouldn’t hear, “…any normal person would give up but of course my soulmate would be more stubborn than that…”

You whistled and that caught his attention with a gasp.

“Hey, focus on me,” you knocked on the door for good measure, “Why were you running? That first meeting could not have been that embarrassing.”

“Says you,” his next words came out muffled, like he’s shrinking into his hoodie, “Of all the days to meet you, you just had to see me right next to a trash can like I was some kind of degenerate rat. Anyone would think I was a loser of a freak, stroking that wrinkled poster like that. Well, I’m not! Only true fans would love this series as much as I do. So if anything, you were probably seeing me at my best moment!”

“Huh.”

You can practically hear Idia deflate from behind the door. “’Huh?’ You say… Yeah yeah, think what you want, I can’t even begin to change it.”

You… have a doozy of a soulmate huh?

“Certainly didn’t help that you were flash banged me, almost made me fall down a ladder and threw papers in my face.”

Idia shrank further. “…sorry…”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Sorry!” It was a burst of a yell and you had to back up a bit, “I was terrified alright?! I mean, I played all sorts of scenarios and even made a game to prepare for this moment. I had all these scripts in my head and I thought I was ready to trigger the romance flag alright?! But instead, I was stuck in my own head and completely missed it! I messed up and I panicked! You have any idea how scary that is?! You weren’t supposed to see me like that! I was supposed to be at max level by the time I met you but instead, I’m just this unevolved mess!”

You opened your mouth but Idia cut in.

“Fate is inevitable, just as death is… I was going to met you regardless and I guess, I thought, that maybe I had more time. But I didn’t. So I just, wanted you to stay away until I thought I was going to be ready… Ha, either way, it’s my fault…”

…alright, how are you going to handle this? You’re not exactly the best when it comes to emotional comfort.

Well, may as well just use what you already have on hand. Or on arm.

“Didn’t Alexius von Tuveria en Ris think he was ready to rule his kingdom when he brought it back from the ashes?”

You heard a sputter. You continued.

“I mean, the dude was kind of young wasn’t he? Well, not like it matters, he brought it back and someone had to rule it whether he liked it or not.”

Then, you heard Idia actually honk. “No, that’s not what happened! Alexius von Tuveria en Ris wanted to bring back the Kingdom of Paradise not because he thought he was fit to rule it but because he thought it didn’t deserve that fate. It’s not his fault that he was put in that position when he brought it to life!”

Ah, there we go. Switching the subject, your best skill!

You egged him on. “But shouldn’t he have been prepared for that, then? The series did say that he likes to prepare for every thing imaginable because it was a kingdom he was reviving.”

“What the–that’s stupid! He can’t see the future! No matter how much he reads or writes, there’s no way he could’ve predicted that! And even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered! He couldn’t have stopped the tragedy anyway!”

“Oh that’s right!” you clapped your hands, “Thanks for reminding me. Totally slipped my mind.”

“As long as you know. I hate it when people don’t pay attention.”

Huh, he sounds huffy. That’s cute.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard to remember with all the stuff that happens in the latest Red Sky Arc, where Alexius just–”

You heard a hard slam against the door. “No spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that arc yet!”

You closed your mouth, almost biting your tongue in the process.

A few seconds, then a minute, and then you burst out laughing.

Idia, meanwhile, was stunned. “W-what? What did I do?”

“No no,” you relaxed, “that’s just the loudest you’ve been.”

“I… I guess that was a bit too loud.” The tone in his voice made him seem bashful. “But I’m seriously not at that part yet. I don’t want to get a head start just yet.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” You pushed yourself up and dusted your pants. “I think I’ll be taking my leave here. Don’t want to bother you too much. I just needed to hear an apology and an excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

You turned around, stuffing the map Ortho gave you into your pocket. “See you later, Idia.”

“Wait!” The door slammed open. You turned around.

Idia’s hair was pink at the tips, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to explode. He did look like he was going to collapse though. Poor man looked out of breath.

“I-I,” the pink began to climb upwards the longer he looked at you, “I, uh, I happen to have that season downloaded… on my PC… so if you want to, you know, update your out of date stuff then, maybe you could, you know… watch it with me?”

His head practically disappeared in his hoodie and hair, but you heard him clear enough.

You could tease him, but you don’t know each other well enough so…

You nodded, “Sure, I have time. A lot of time actually.”

That one is a bit of a lie, but you just want to spend time with Idia. You have a number of excuses on hand anyway. You’ll send one off right before settling down.

“Huh? Oh, uh” Idia moved to the side, holding the door like it’ll protect him from his feelings, “C-come in then.”

You stepped inside.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #short story #twst charity #ignihyde #idia #idia shroud #soulmates au #reader insert

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quartztwst · 2 months

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waitt Azul doesn't like rielle? I'm sry I'm not on Jp but PLZZ tell mee I always thought he was neutral

I THINK HE HATED RIELLE he said he was cringe or smth???

I KNOW HE MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT RIELLE AND I THINK AZUL HAS AN ICK FOR HIM HE WAS LIKE “ew rielle i think he should die” or smth idk i REMEMBER IT OR WAS THAT MADE UP IN MY MEMORY WTF

I LOOKED AND I SWEAR THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT AZULBEING A HATER AND I DONT SEE ANYTHING

DID I MAKE IT UP IN MY HEAD AM I DELSUIONAL?? AM I CRAZY??? IM SO CRAZY FOR AZUL I STARTED MAKING SHIT UP IN MY HEAD.

im insane im gone what the fuck i swear

I SWEAR

anyways about my rielle teehee bc fuck azul whatever

Rielle (MY VERSION)

Second year (17)

Dude sometimes is dumb as fuck

Geninuely did not pay attention to Azul until they both went up to the surface

But he did think Azul was cool so he thinks they’re friends but Azul thinks he’s fucking cringe

the reason he didn’t even think about azul is because ermmm he’s a royal and was taught not to talk to POOR POEPLEE (azul is not poor)

but you get what i was saying

he’s the youngest and he’s mostly left behind so he spends his time alone and quiet

UNTIL HE DISCOVERED THAT HUMANS FUCKING EXIST AND WAS LIKE “yo, dad, i wanna go to the surface”

and his dad was like “what but the surface is kinda wack no”

and then he asked the TWST equalivent of Sebastian (CRAB ONE NOT THE DEMON) and RAN AWAY??? TO THE SURFACE. HE LIKE

HE LITERALLY LEFT HOME TO GO TO SCHOOL ON THE SURFACE (no contract needed)

he met azul again during the boot camp thing and wanted to make friends for the first time and was met with “ew die” from azul

he’s very curious about land and land dweller culture so he’s always trying to try everything before his dad figures out where he is at.

he’s late to class everyday bc he’s too busy researching and trying something out

his guardian basically sebastian

accidentally made meth once

his grades are actually pretty good. he’s everywhere but he also studies the night before the test and somehow gets 91%

created an essay under 7 hours and got a decent score

gets his ass scolded by Cedric (cinderella twst oc) and Sebastian bc he keeps doing that

tries to get Neige into his antics

Asked Neige to go sky-diving with him and they literally both went (Neige had fun, Rielle was screaming)

Rielle hates heights but wants to overcome them

made a contract with azul that lost his voice for the first half of the school year before leona dusted it and he gained his voice back (<- i might change this)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst ocs #twst oc #twisted wonderland ocs #twisted wonderland oc #azul ashengrotto #prince rielle #twst rielle

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rubra-wav · 2 months

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Main Hazbin Hotel cast x fallen angel reader who wants to cut off their wings (drabble - hc format)

Req by: @lightmoon99

A/N: I fucking love fallen angel angst type content, it's my bread and butter. I hope I was able to do it some justice <3

Cw: SFW, decapitation, a bit angsty, platonic, cannibalism, Gn!Reader

When you had fallen from heaven to hell, your hate for your more angelic attributes that had already existed before the fall only deepened.

You hated the sensation of the weight that signified your wings were, in fact, still there even when your halo had been taken when the exterminators had left you to die here.

You hated that you had to feel the pain of your attempt to hide them under cloaks and baggy clothes with ropes pinning them to your back.

When you came to the hazbin hotel, you were open from the get-go with Charlie, hoping she would sympathise being the daughter of a fallen angel herself.

It of course didn't take long for others in the hotel to find out you are a fallen angel, however it did take longer for them to find out simultaneously during a group exercise that you wanted to discard any and all heavenly reminders of what you used to be.

Charlie

- She's horrified when you bring out your wings in a flourish and say such a thing while gesturing to them.

- It's not too surprising considering you hide them practically all the time, but it still fills her with a sense of grief for you to think such a thing.

- She immediately tries to shut it down, telling you that you shouldn't hurt yourself and should be proud you have such gorgeous wings!

- Would apologise and go silent when she realises how badly she's messed up in saying that seeing your expression.

- Only continues speaking to dissuade some of the poor ideas coming from others in the group.

- She'd probably try to think up ways to make it up to you after the meeting.

- Probably tries to suggest doing some trauma work type things? She doesn't know a lot about that kind of thing, but she could get some books on it to try!

- Actually ends up learning a bit about trauma treatment stuff outside of the awful pop culture live love laugh stuff she's on about most of the time.

- Ends up helping out with you coping a bit better in the end due to that.

- Keeps trying but fails to do anything to dissuade certain members of the hotel to stop encouraging you to remove your wings, however.

Vaggie

- She's stung as a wingless fallen angel herself that you'd want to do such a thing.

- But she also understands all the same why you'd feel that way.

- Would respond in a way that's understanding, but ultimately awkward and clunky due to how she is normally.

- Made worse due to her own angst about it.

- Afterwards, she would probably try to have a private chat to you about it since it's clear you're struggling and logically she's gonna probably be the one most understanding.

- May even reveal she's a fallen too if you're close to try and give you a feeling of comradery in a pretty bleak way.

- She's got basically the opposite of what you've got, but it'd still be bonding and mutual support.

- Would be emotionally supporting you and encouraging you to try work through the trauma rather than harming / cutting off your wings.

- What the hotel doesn't have is a doctor, so you'd be screwed if you decapitated a part of yourself.

- She doesn't want you to feel inclined towards taking up certain members' offers either.

- She knows that the others are not going to stop with their bullshit so she actively tries to educate you on what they are up to really and all the risks that come with.

Angel

- When he first hears it, he cringes very noticeably despite his usual persona.

- The definition of 'that's rough, buddy.'

- He feels terrible for you that you'd feel such a way, but he also has absolutely no clue how to express it at all.

- Probably would be the type to try distract you from the bad by having fun, so he'd be trying to get you to hang out with him and either go to parties or go on various shenanigans.

- He's not good at emotionally comforting people at all, so he's awkward as hell and at loss when it gets particularly bad for you.

- But he's always there to try do activities with you to take your mind off of it.

- And he also needs it as well honestly. It's nice having someone who's also feeling shitty so you can mutually drag each other out to do things rather than wallowing in bs and feeling worse and worse.

- Probably calls out Cherry as well because she's always good at cheering him up.

- He knows quite a few people from a lot of different walks of life, so chances are he could get you in contact with someone who'd be able to perform removal surgery if after everything you still want it done.

- No strings attached as well with his assistance, unlike Alastor.

Husk

- He'd not really react at all initially outside of maybe raising his brows at your comment.

- Obviously, it's bad, but he just prefers to play his cards to his chest with how he truly feels about things.

- Would be actively being bitter as fuck at most of the other residents suggesting stupid shit though in a way that's honestly protective.

- Basically shuts all of them down one by one, calling them out on their crap.

- When Alastor points out how he 'seems to care awfully much about you' Husk scoffs and tells him to fuck off.

- Shuts up for the rest of the group part of the interaction.

- Afterwards though, he'd have a private conversation with you and actually gives you some good advice.

- Tells you that you should do whatever the hell you want but also to not let the opinions and thoughts others dictate that.

- If you want to do that, it's really your decision, and nobody has any right to try to tell you what you should do with your own wings.

- Doesn't really share his own opinion on what he thinks you should do because it's asinine and would be hypocritical to what he's encouraging.

- Just encourages you to think for yourself rather than just going with what the idiots and asshole are trying to fill your head with.

- And if you do decide to get them removed? Make sure to be safe with it.

Sir Pentious

- He very obviously feels bad for you. He shows it all over his face but also has no clue how to express it properly.

- So, naturally, he automatically goes to propose a practical solution to the problem.

- "I can do that for you, my fallen friend! I have experience with my creations, so I should be able to attemp-"

- He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's very rudely interrupted by Husk and told to fuck off with that shitty idea.

- Visibly deflates when he's told he's not a doctor and is just some inventor wannabe.

- He'd shut up for the rest of the meeting, moping and glaring between Husk and Alastor.

- But afterwards, he's approaching you saying he would try his best to do it if you asked.

- Would go and start researching how to do the procedure and starts meticulously learning about how to properly do it.

- Whether you decide on him doing the procedure or not, he wants to be ready just in case.

- He has no idea how to emotionally provide for you properly in this situation, so he's doing what he does best and is working practically. He's all open to any way he can be of assistance, however.

- Absolutely asked his eggs for advice on what to do and got nowhere.

Alastor

- Person number 2 who receives a resounding 'shut up' message via Husk.

- His eyes absolutely light up when you say you want to remove your wings, grin widening as he takes on a sweet tone that does not match his intentions at all.

- "Well, that could certainly be arranged, darling."

- Asks if you'd like to make a deal for your wings in exchange for something you want from him. He'd take you to someone skilled enough to do the operation.

- He wants a meal that is heavenly in a completely different kinda way.

- It's not every day you get to eat angel wings. And it wasn't like you wanted them, and he sure did.

- Even if you're friends, he wants to win the rare delicacy competition he has going with Rosie. If he bought some skilfully cooked dish with your wings in it, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt.

- It's not like he'd be lying about getting them removed, either. Just his intentions for volunteering to do so.

- Shuts up about it after the first mention of it and being called out by Husk, going on about something different after.

- But he's already plotting out what he can do to get what he wants.

- Would actively be sabotaging Pentious the whole time he's studying how to do the procedure as well. Those wings are going to be his, and he will not be the second choice when you (in his mind at least) inevitably come to him for assistance.

- He won't actively make your misery worse, but he will act as a passive influence urging you towards his goal.

Niffty

- Would also say she can remove your wings.

- But, would then proceed to try and do just that without even allowing you to process what she's said.

- Gets caught thrashing around like a madwoman in mid-air by Vaggie who saw it coming from a mile away.

- Wants to get your wings taxidermied and framed because she thinks they would make an excellent decorative piece in the hotel.

- Would then need to be kept in sight at all times away from you as she would be repeatedly trying again and again to destroy the cloaks you wear to hide your wings to get to them.

- Already had been collecting your feathers for several months and had already sorted those into a freaky art piece.

- So she's more than ready for a more substantial specimen.

- Was the one to actually expose you as being an angel in the first place - unintentionally by mentioning the giant feathers she'd found in your trash.

- Would probably be placated if you gave her more feather tbh. She thinks your wings and feathers are just wonderful.

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mothmanssweetsucculentass · 27 days

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Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #jeff the killer #rant #I’m not a professional in anything don’t @ me #I’ve just been here for years #so I at the very least partially know what I’m talking about #I personally think this purist mindset and behavior is bs if you go and attack other creators #just be nice to people Ohmygod #update #eyeless Jack #slenderman

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vyl3tpwny · 8 months

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Music Genres

When I was kid, you would have probably heard me say something like “I don’t believe in genre labels”. To a degree, there is still something about that sentiment that I agree with; I don’t think you can really put music and styles of music in neat little boxes. But otherwise, I was pretty much wrong about everything else.

Let’s go over that.

pictured: Mala, one of the godfathers of roots Dubstep

—

To be blunt, “genre” isn’t just about approximating what a song sounds like. If you say “I love pop music”, that honestly doesn’t mean much. The more specific you get, the more you will approach something someone can imagine like “I like experimental progressive noise pop music”. Ok, I can start to imagine things that likely approach what you're talking about, but even then it will usually not help someone fully understand what something truly is. In categorizing and approximating music styles, genres only go so far. So what makes them important then?

Well, not to say that approximating a style when describing an artist to someone is a bad thing or that doing so isn’t meant to be valued, but it’s hardly the only reason these labels exist. Importantly, “genre” helps establish culture, history, and a musical identity. So when you're trying to tell someone you're listening to a "progressive rock” project, you’re not just imagining odd time-signatures and complex riffs, you’re also meant to understand and consider that whatever is being described as to you has some sort of relevance or importance with regards to the history behind progressive rock; the culture of college bands in the UK, the sound that the punk movement revolted against, the progression of musical storytelling in rock music since the late 60’s and early 70’s, stuff like that. There’s a distinct culture and history you can pinpoint and understand when you describe something as being progressive rock and you can’t just go around calling any complex electric guitar oriented music "progressive rock" unless it has those specific ties as well as understanding and iteration of the roots.

pictured: Genesis, because progressive rock mention

—

Genre labels help to clarify what kind of culture and histories a music project is being associated itself with and where a lot of its inspiration comes from. This is much more compelling reason for underlining the importance of genre labels and why they should be used correctly.

So, there is something I need to get off my chest then. There are a lot of misuses of genre labels all over the place, especially online. And I’m not talking about saying something is “Alternative Rock” when it’s clearly some kind of “Folk Rock” record instead. What I’m talking about is something like “Dubstep”.

Even as recent as a few years ago, I started personally reclaiming the term “Dubstep” as a genre label to describe any bass-adjacent music. At the time I did this, I thought it was cool, because the term Dubstep had been dubbed (pun intended) to be cringeworthy lexicon to some people. And while I feel that’s a noble reason to reclaim something like that, because some weirdos think it's cringe, in this case I actually think it’s wrong.

The term “Brostep” has been used to describe any non-roots bass-oriented music that originates from the proper roots Dubstep. It’s a term I didn’t like FOREVER, especially because the phrase was derived as a generalization of the kind of people who tend to listen to it. However, I actually think that Brostep is a title that people should be more comfortable and confident with labeling things as.

The original Dubstep came as a result of Jamaican immigrants bringing Dub music to the UK, which then fused with the remnants of 2-Step Garage which was prominent in the 90’s just years prior. Timbah.On.Toast made a great video called All My Homies Hate Skrillex and it is a really good breakdown of what separates roots Dubstep from the Americanized Brostep, which came after it. I think everyone knows by now that I have a deep, deep love for EDM based Broste and I am the biggest Skrillex fangirl alive. So being both a Brostep and Skrillex superfan, please understand that I think the video is one of the most important things you can watch as an EDM enjoyer.

Conflating the term Dubstep with things that aren’t actually Dubstep is honestly a slap in the face to all of the pioneers of Dub and Dubstep, which famously were both pretty much ENTIRELY invented by black people. I think it’s fair to say that incorrectly labeling music in this way has racist implications. It dishonours and twists the legacy of the music. You can find og Dubstep to listen to on the RYM Ultimate Box Set > Dubstep page. Check some of that out, then listen to some 2010, 2011 Skrillex and see how different things really went.

It confused me at first when I was a teenager, I didn't understand why so many people hated Skrillex back in the day. I came to realize so much of the hate wasn’t even really with regards music itself, but the total lack of understanding or care for the roots of the genre, which all of his work was founded upon and he then subsequently bastardized without caring at all. It was pure disrespect, it was practically cultural erasure and so many people will now only know of Dubstep as “that Skrillex transformer screech music”. Yeah. It actually fucking sucks.

But there is a LONG history of black music being erased from history and being undermined, whether entirely intentional or due to systemic unawareness.

I saw a post the other day talking about how it sucks that so much music is just lumped into being “video game music” when so much of this stuff has deep roots and cultural significance. The first example pointed how a lot of acid jazz music is just described as “Persona music” by the layperson now. Meanwhile, Acid Jazz as a genre is a huge development on things like roots jazz, disco, funk, and hip hop music. You know. All genres that were invented by black people. Fascinating, right?

Jungle music was also mentioned. And this one is very particular for me. Jungle music, when not being generalized as "PS1 Music", is often just called drum & bass or breakcore (also please Google the difference between breakbeat and breakcore, thanks) which are all fundamentally misunderstanding what Jungle music even is. Much of Jungle music, AS MANY THINGS DO, finds VERY prominent roots in Reggae, Dub, and sound system culture in Jamaica as well as countless other prominently black communities in the UK.

But it doesn’t stop there.

If you’re unfamiliar, there is a genre called “IDM”, otherwise known as Intelligent Dance Music. When I was a kid, and I first heard that word, I immediately was like “that is the most pretentious, stupid thing I’ve ever heard”. Eventually as I grew up, I just stopped thinking about that and started referring to more music as IDM. This style of music is generally characterized with “complexity” and being “not much danceable”. While I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the music that is called IDM, I do think there’s everything wrong with the term IDM, intelligent dance music.

When asked how he feels about being labeled as an IDM artist, Aphex Twin responded:

"I just think it's really funny to have terms like that. It's [basically] saying 'this is intelligent and everything else is STUPID.' It's really nasty to everyone else's music."

pictured: Aphex Twin, the funnyman himself

—

I think most people would agree with this sentiment. It’s so strange to call one kind of music “intelligent”, out of the hundreds of thousands of genres out there. But let’s bring this back to Jungle music. The reality is that IDM started to become a term around the same time that Jungle music became prominent, in the 90's. Both styles of music are complex, introspective, skittery, and chaotic (but refined and often disciplined) genres. Except, of these two, Jungle music was the one pioneered primarily by black artists. IDM was a sort in competition with Jungle. To therefore call IDM “intelligent” in comparison to Jungle music ... well. I don’t feel like I really have to explain why that’s fucked up.

A lot of people have proposed different names for IDM. A quick look on reddit yields things like “Experimental Electronic” and “Brain Dance” (which was coined by Aphex Twin's label). Me personally, the term “Electro-Prog” comes to mind. Sounds cool.

Similar conversations are presently being had about the term “Riddim”. This brings us back to the dubstep side of this discussion again. Riddim, as an EDM genre, is an offshoot of Brostep music that focuses a lot on repetition over the downbeat, maintaining an insanely distorted sound design, a lot more than the average Brostep song. However, the term “riddim” originates — yet again — from the Jamaican Patois for “rhythm”. And Riddim as a musical style in Jamaica is actually more associated with things like dancehall and reggae, rather than the commercialized "Riddim" that is several hundred times removed from its own roots.

Last year, musician INFEKT proposed that what most EDM listeners call “riddim” should be referred to instead as “Trench” in an article on their website. This proposed name is derived from Getter’s use of the term on his 2014 record “Trenchlords Vol. 1”. I don’t personally know how much I resonate with the term, but whatever the consensus is, I don’t think we should be conflating a westernized, commercialized, and EDM-centric genre like this to Jamaican roots music. Over and over again, it seems that black music is constantly overwritten by developments like this, so I think more care needs to be taken in not allowing that to happen.

As a side note, a lot of people online seem very keen on appropriating Jamaican Patois quite often? There are so many examples of this. When the term “Bomboclaat” started making the rounds on Twitter a few years ago, so many white people were quick to either talk wildly about the term and trend or otherwise start saying it as well. There was a fucking article that sought to answer “The Bomboclaat >> Meme << Meaning Explained”, like they’re not dissecting an element of Jamaican slang lol. Then there was a period of time where people were constantly saying things like “On Jah?” as a stand-in for “On God?” even though this, again, is Jamaican Patois. And even now, you have tons and tons of non-black people going everywhere being like “what is blud waffling about?”, the phrase “blud” ONCE AGAIN also being Jamaican in origin.

I shouldn’t even have to explain what makes these kinds of appropriations weird and messed up. But black people lose jobs and are denied basic things in life over their hair styles, their expressions and slang, and so many other things that a white person can just appropriate and face zero consequences whatsoever for.

That aside, aside. Understanding and labeling genres correctly is such a big part of music history and highlighting and preserving cultures worldwide. When efforts are made to undermine the meaning of a genre label or otherwise use it incorrectly, so much damage is done to the communities and people groups that innovate and pioneer this art to begin with.

For these reasons, I will gladly use the term Brostep. I will happily call things Electro-Prog. And when you talk about genres like Jungle and Dubstep, say it with your whole chest. Be proud of the human race, show respect and love for the people who have forged the greatest parts of music with their bare hands. We will always stand on the shoulders of giants as musicians, so instead of pretending you yourself are the giant, build monuments and maintain the history of these people. You as an artist are nothing without them.

pictured: Augustus Pablo, one of the most important innovators of Dub. Without him, and without many of his contemporaries, I would reckon that half or more of all modern music would simply not exist.

CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS FINAL SECTION, THERE ARE LIKE LOTS OF STRANGE SLURS AND RACIST VIBES.

—

One last thing I wanna mention, this is slightly tangential but I think it's relevant to this conversation. It's always weird how lots of websites categorize things like this:

From Big Fish Audio... "G**sy*? "World/Ethnic Loops & Samples"? What the fuck are you talking about. Seems like racism to me.

On Loopmasters they have a "World" section. Any Americanized genre gets its own category, but the entire continents of Africa and Asia as well as the country of India and region of the Middle East (which are part of Asia, hope this helps btw) and lastly South America are stuffed into the nebulous "World Label". Seems like racism to me. Are you telling me you weirdos can't figure out a better way to represent these things?

But then Psy Trance gets its whole entire own category? Aren't there only like five people who listen to Psy Trance? /hj . But like come on.

Shoutout to WA Productions for categorizing a universe of suspiciously mostly black music as """Urban"""". And this company is a dime a dozen, hundreds of corpos do this shit.

East fucking West, what is this dude. There is a racism happening, I just know it. Please give me a count of how many poc are on payroll at your company, I am so curious.

And while we're at it, East West, what is this. Tell me. Fucking tell me.

Thanks for reading.

#vyop

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strawberryraviegutz · 21 days

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I really REALLY hate those kinds of stupid “hot take” posts. I think they’re just garbage to purposely farm more discourse to cause infighting, but I’ve been holding this in for so long and I need to get it out of my system so here it goes.

Alastor fans are allowed to dislike Valentino. Valentino was made to be a dislikable Villain while Alastor BY VIV’S OWN WORDS is a chaotic neutral antihero based off of Dexter with a moral code. Of course people are gonna like Alastor more than Valentino. The antihero/vigilante is a very popular beloved trope. I mean just look at Magneto and Venom.

You guys claim to want more nuanced characters but when we try and tell you that Alastor is more nuanced BASED OFF OF EVIDENCE FROM THE CREATOR and little possible context clues in the show we get accused of “babying/woobifying him”(as if Val fans haven’t done that to Val). This isn’t a hit piece against all Val fans/simps btw. I may hate that moth, but you guys should be allowed like him without receiving hate and or death threats.

It’s not “hypocrisy” to dislike Valentino or the Vees and like Alastor for the reasons I said above and the four of them aren’t comparable. Yeah they share some traits but overall the only thing Alastor and the Vees have in common are the mistreatment of the souls they own. Like I said, Val fans shouldn’t be attacked for liking him but the thing is…if you’re gonna preach those words then do the same for Alastor fans/simps because we get attacked too.

(Again it’s not all Val stans but it sure it a lot of them. I’ve all so seen Val haters do it too.) Yall claim not to harass people over fictional characters yet will go under Alastor posts and or discussion threads and be like “Uhm actually him and Valentino are the same🤓☝️”.

“He’s worse than Val” “Why can’t we just have a good villain” “Just accept that Alastor is a villain stop babying him” when we’re just minding our own business. Not to mention people going under fanart of Angel! Alastor and being like “erm actually he’d never go to heaven🤪”.

Along with yall bullying the hell out of Alastor selfshippers/simps and using tumblr sexyman as an insult(which reaks of internalized misogyny btw because majority of Alastor simps are women + women are always the first to be made fun of when it comes to characters that Classify as tumblr sexymen being found attractive by them or any character you personally wouldn’t find attractive.)

And yall going around and keep calling Alastor ugly under posts about people gushing about him and i don’t mean lighthearted jokes either because i make fun of the back of his head sometimes too. And full blown harassment. When an Alastor fan provided evidence of Alastor being a more nuanced character which were clips from Viv’s streams, people in the comments and qrts were being extremely rude and dismissive. It got so bad that op deleted the og tweet.

Don’t go around and claim to be against cringe culture but then make fun of people for finding Alastor attractive. And for goodness sake STOP FUCKING CALLING HIM A SLAVE OWNER. And yes he owns souls but that doesn’t matter.

Alastor is canonically half black and its overall disgusting to slap the label “slave owner” onto him knowing damn well that he grew up in the Jim Crow era of America in the Deep South of Louisiana. His existence as a mixed black person back then was basically considered an abomination. With how terrible it was for black people back then, Alastor probably bore witness to a lot of messed up shit growing up and if that’s the case then it’s no wonder he’s so messed up in the head.

This type of behavior has been going on since the days where we only had the pilot and it’s only gotten worse since the show came out. As soon as I saw that scene with husk and Alastor in hell’s greatest dad I automatically knew what was coming. I’m not saying that Alastor Is a good person nor am I saying that what he did to husk was ok. But to go after/make fun of Alastor fans,purposely denying evidence of his character while in the same breath preach against bullying people over liking certain characters makes YOU the hypocrites. So much for anti-harassment. I’m tired. Bye.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #vivzieverse #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel

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dontmindmyunicorn · 9 months

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i will never understand the hate that some older millennials direct towards younger adults born in the mid to late 90s. i’m a zillennial (january of ‘98) and while i haven’t lived either the FULL millennial or gen z experience, i DO know that shitting on people solely for the year they were born in is fucked up. it’s very disheartening how grown adults will gatekeep entire cultural phenomena. the commodification of media thanks to sites like buzzfeed has convinced us that we did not truly experience something unless we had physical ephemera of that era. if we didn’t have 20 beanie babies or didn’t hear bye bye bye on a hitclip or had to wait 20 minutes to use dial-up internet or used T9 on a flip phone or watched clarissa explains it all live on nickelodeon, we weren’t really #millennials. 30-year-old grown adults are saying shit like ‘oh, you like that? well guess what, i grew up with it and LIVED through it.’ on the flip side of this coin, we can and should ALSO acknowledge the existence of cringe without making people feel excluded from participating in said phenomena. if we shit on zoomers for rediscovering early 2000s fashion trends or listening to music of the late 90s, or shit on 1997 & 1998 adults for having little to no recollections of a time before 9/11, what are we doing? what does that say about our generation? what does that say about how we define ourselves?? it’s a boomer mentality that is tainting the experience for all of us, not to mention dividing us up. we can be nostalgic for a time when life was indeed simpler without being actively harsh to young people also partaking in that innocence. please be kind and let people enjoy things.

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majesticcorn2000 · 4 months

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ok im kinda pissed off and i think everyone should know about it

first of all, im fully aware that verbalase is a huge dickhead. like, no doubt. but all of you are focusing on that amv commission too much instead of him spreading queerphobia self-shipping is nice, nothing wrong with that. why people don't talk about verbalase being a bigot? every post about him i see talks about that animation and how it is very inappropriate due to the fact that he is married or something like that. who fucking cares if he has a wife? who fucking cares about what his wife would say? sorry but it seems like you're projecting. i'm fine if my partner loves a fictional character more than me. i will never be jealous because i know that he loves me no matter what. same goes for him, he is chill about me loving my favorite character more than him. he isn't mad or upset either!! my love for my partner and my love for a character can co-exist!!!!!!! it's ok to be like that!!! this is called "a healthy relationship", good morning!!!!!!!!! and who fucking cares if charlie has a gf? first of all, as far as i know she is bi. second, polyamory exists. and third. the most important. why do you care about it at all??????? are we out of the problems here???????????? people freaking out about spending so much money on that amv are weird. did you know that animation is expensive. if a person can and want to spend so much money on it, it's okay. don't act like you wouldn't like to get a three minutes long animation with your fav character and your self-insert for the love of chirst, talk about verbalase being an asshole to queer people. just because he is a douchebag it doesn't mean you can shit on him for self-shipping. i truly believed that we were trying to kill cringe culture, but looking at how the majority of the internet is acting now proves the opposite. if you think i'm trying to support him here, you're just fucking stupid. all i'm doing here is pointing at you choosing the wrong reason to hate him for, and if your mind can't comprehend this thought, then i don't even know how to explain it in more simple words to you.

#sheila talks #i'm so fucking mad right now #speak about his transphobia and homophobia instead!!! what the fuck is wrong with you #it just seems to me that you would judge LITERALLY EVERYONE who loves self-ship even if they're not an asshole #which is actually very mean of you

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just-an-enby-lemon · 1 year

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I think one thing a lot of Riddler writers forget is that riddles aren't a math problem (like Unburied Eddie helpfully pointed out) they are poetry with logic. That's to say that while tec savvy math guy Edward is at this point almost an essencial characther trait it should co-exist with literature nerd, will act like an english major, hoho phonetics grammar and semantics, totaly studied rethoric, has a bunch of poetry books lying around Edward.

His special interest is riddles. He loves world-play. This man has poetry compilations from all over the world. He knows a bunch of languages not because "cliche super genius speak a bunch of languages" but because it's a subject he is genuinally obcessed with and has fun learning. If he went to college he has at least a minor on english. He writes poetry on his diary like the loser he is and while some are soo cringe it brings cringe culture back to life some are actually pretty good because again he creates his own riddles and that is basically poetry with logic. And I know this is all tecnically headcannon material but it makes too much sense in my head so for me it's just cannon.

#edward nygma #riddler

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tenebrius-excellium · 1 year

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It leaves me very confused and a little sad that there isn’t a richer, larger, more united and more enthusiastic fanbase for the Avatar movies. I’ve been waiting for commentaries on the second movie, both indulging and critical, and there’s a mere trickle of content appearing in the tags. So far, they all fall in weirdly isolated columns of character x reader, Kiri stans, ‘I loved the movie!’ one liners, ‘boycott Avatar’, Na’vi learners and people being horny over clone!Quaritch on main.

There isn’t much meta despite the universe being huge, fairly consistent, and ever-expanding. The like-to-reblog ratio on posts is catastrophic. There’s not much art. I miss people being excited. I miss discourse, headcanons and AUs! I miss people giving detailed reasons for the way they respond to the movie, no matter whether they liked it or not. Nothing seems to stick despite so many refined details, e.g. the Metkayina using sign language underwater and having inner eyelids like amphibians! Or the fact that the explanations for the use of English, Kiri’s and Spider’s existence etc. were quite thought-out and satisfying.

Sure, there’s the epic Pandoran world on one hand, and then there’s of course the “Cameronism”: The two-pronged personal fantasy of the director who is playfully exploring colonialism as negative while reaffirming it in the same breath, combined with a bland, overly conservative story. If the plot really reflects Cameron’s thinking, it is dangerously outdated by 15-20 years and cannot stay relevant. But the point to me is: It was to be expected.

Avatar and Avatar The Way Of Water are US-American Hollywood stories based on military culture. Once you know that, it is my firm belief that it’s possible to detach yourself from that lense. But perhaps I really am arguing from a merely European perspective that is so used to mediocre language dubs, the strange obsession with heroism, patriotism, weapons and violence, and other US-specific phenomenons that just feel generally outlandish to non-US viewers. We don’t have the same problems, so being constantly faced with yours through entertainment media causes us to... kinda tune those out and enjoy what’s left, tbh. Because some of them are really painfully cringe up to completely unthinkable to the rest of the world. Even the first Avatar was never intended as a global story; - although the RDA is supposedly composed of international players, the representation on Pandora is purely US-American, even more, it’s not even covering all of your own ethnic variety. So if we can’t even expect European, Asian, African and South-American scientists in the space mission, what are we supposed to expect about indigenous voices of smaller civilizations?

What I’m trying to say is, US media currently have a certain range of messages they convey even here in Europe, because, well, you still have the monopoly on filmmaking and we watch all of your stuff. However, we are very aware that your POV is narrow and limited since it rarely actually applies to us. And sooo, what do we do with the reality of our own exclusion that we are inevitably constantly reflecting? We ignore it, we roll our eyes and don’t think too deeply on it, we leave you guys to solve your own problems and enjoy what’s given. Perhaps we are able to separate a fantastic narrative from the cultural/ political clashes that come with it a little better, because most of the time, we don’t identify with the latter. I’m not saying the differences are in any way good or that they should stay that way. I’m saying that from where I’m at, Batman, Spiderman and Avatar don’t look too different to me when it comes to elaborate escapist fantasies about good vs. evil, and media might not quite be as relevant to conflicts as they seem in the US. Education is much more important, and to act in real life rather than in fiction. As for me, I’ll appreciate Avatar like any other fandom space, because the concept is extraordinary, its future potential still enormous, and I would love for more positive interaction. I harbor the sliiiight hope that Cameron might grow out of his current spree and redeem himself in one of the later sequels. Since there are going to be 3 more of them, you know. There you go :)

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 analysis #analysis #avatar the way of water analysis #wherethekiteflies

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celluloidbroomcloset · 2 months

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I've spent about 0.3 seconds pondering this whole new disc horse and you know what, I think I see another factor why they think Stede and Ed are ''''heteronormative''. It's probably has to do with that they visually do look like this every gay ship we've had across fandoms that never got canon. You know blond guy black haired guy, sunshine and grumpy one. It's a type of ships popular amongst women (I'm women), often white women. And now that I'm thinking about it, I also saw people say that only fake gay white women enjoy ofmd to begin with.

So I think this is just another way to cast judgement at the ship because the demographic that presumably likes it is bad/cringe etc. Never mind this is actually hurtful generalisation (we all know Ofmd is beloved by many demographics), but also, circling back to the visual similarity to other ships. How often do we actually get to have our gay ships actually become canon instead of deluding ourselves through meta and fanfic?

I hadn't really considered that. I do think that there's a lot of homophobia and sexism feeding into some of this discourse—more than a few people have pointed out that Izzy is indeed the queer-coded villain/antagonist in a lot of media, and so it's like he's being read as though he's in a completely different story, one where we do have to search for subtext. Which I find very interesting from a narrative and metatextual standpoint, because it develops this whole thing about Izzy being in the wrong story the entire time.

There's a lot of complicated shit about fandom. There's some legitimate criticism of cis, primarily white, women oversexualizing gay male relationships, and some very not legitimate criticism about shipping and fandom that slides very quickly into sexism and that disregards the existence of other fans. From what I've seen, the fandom of OFMD is not at all dominated by cisgender white women, and the sexuality of the entire show is, like, a part of the show itself. It's not at all being imposed from the outside.

This should all clue us into the fact that it's always dangerous to generalize. We can discuss cultural trends and issues with tropes but also shouldn't just apply that across every show.

OFMD is unique because it canonizes the central relationship that would not be canonical under most other circumstances, and that central relationship is not the sole queer representation or relationship in canon. The entire show is canonically queer and it has to be approached like that. Claiming that any one character is the Queer Character is ridiculous.

#ofmd #reply #ofmd meta #ofmd fandom #izzy hands #queer representation

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alexissara · 11 months

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Polyamory Is Queer

So a post on twitter happened where a pansexual person was saying Polyamory was queer and that he wanted people to include Polyamory in their pride merch was getting massively dunked on on twitter. nearly 1000 people at the time of me starting to write this had decided they should tell this person to die, to say he was a fed, that polyamarous people weren't oppressed in any way, that the oppression they have is deserved, etc. That alone to me would speak to the queerness here of polyamory, getting mass harassment for dating to suggest that even against our own, a pansexual guy.

Like the post is cringe in that asking for merch is cringe, like who cares, it's capitalism, I don't care about polyam flag merch, in fact, I probably wouldn't buy it if it existed in general. I would rather get merch of three girls holding hands being polyamarous and really that mostly doesn't exist and, a little sad sure, but it doesn't matter. It's not really an access of oppression.

However, I want to talk about why polyamory is queer and to knock down all the common talking points that are levied against queer people. I am not using any strawmen here I promise you I only need to look at these quote retweets to see SOOO MANY people saying the same shit I see right here.

Polyamarous People Are Not Oppressed

Polyamorous people face many different forms of oppression. There is the obviously and previously stated mass dunking on a person for daring to say they want more polyam merch and that polyam people are part of the wider queer community. This isn't a lone incident but instead I see all the time monogamous people feeling it is totally fine to dunk on polyamarous people because they met one that annoyed them or because it makes them uncomfortable or we are sluts or something. The mass harassment and open hatred are in fact a form of oppression.

However, it doesn't just result in the public opinion but the legal reality. You can be legally fired for being polyamarous basically everywhere. If you have a divorce and you are polyamarous your child will be taken away, it doesn't matter if you have proof if it being consensual it is a mark against you. If someone is sick in the polycule only one person can claim themselves as a partner to go to a hospital and see them. Polyamarous people do not have a right to be married. Polyamarous people are subjected to increased criticism about their relationships. Polyamarous people face a hyper comparison when one person lies about being polyam to abuse their girlfriend or a polyam person ends up being a bad partner it is cast on all polyamarous people.

Cis/Het Men Can't Be Queer

When people make this argument their projecting the bad boyfriend of a friend of theirs onto all polyamorous people, it's a straw man. We've decided some time ago that cis/het men can in fact be queer, I don't even like that. If I was big goddess of queerness I would vanish cis/het men from being queer but we already decided that they were. I frankly just do not care for cis/het dudes generally, some of my favorite siblings are cis/het dudes.

The A in LGBTQIA includes Asexuals and Aromantics both of whom can be Cis/Het men. The I can in fact also include cis/het men people who are intersex and assigned male at birth and id as men do exist and those people can in fact be cis/het.

Polyamarous People Aren't Historically Oppressed

The reality is if you look at the history of the world, you'll find that most cultures were not monogamous. A lot practiced Social Monogamy aka a woman was owned by a man but the man fucked around and that was normal. However, many cultures simply had no concept of monogamy, in fact there are some cultures to this day that are non monogamous without men having ownership of women. The reality is much how history is much gayer then we know and a lot more trans then we know history is also a lot more non-monogamous. Many indigenous cultures and pre Christian cultures practiced various forms of non-monogamy. These cultures were wiped out slowly with the Christian take over of the majority of the world. Ethical or not we know many powerful people took multiple wives in countries like China where the empires had ranks for their consorts as a standard practice. These are not vastly different then the kind of monogamous marriages that were common place by kings only they didn't need to kill their wives to be with other women.

The reality is that something that came natural to many be it bad or good instincts was suppressed and removed. Polyamory was wiped out from most the world because it deviated the mind set of the colonizers. Of course any place queerness has been suppressed queer non-monogamy was suppressed as well. We know that polyamarous people have had to hide their relationships especially if they deviated from the heteronormative model like like in the case of William Moulton Marston, Elizabeth Holloway Marston, and Olive Byrne whom had to cloak their relationship be that sexual or not.

Polyamarous Are Just Sleeping Around

I don't have to go in depth here, asexual polyamarous people like me exist. I am dating many a hot lady and person and I haven't had sex in years. I don't have sex. You don't need to have sex to be polyamarous.

However, what's wrong with wanting to have sex? Why is that a grounds for oppression? Having lots of sex or no sex, it doesn't make you more or less valid. I saw someone say that polyamarous people deserve to have their kids taken away because their sleeping around.

Does a single monogamous mom deserve to have her kids taken away if she sleeps around when her kids are with their dad? What about a dad? Like sleeping around is something most monogamous allosexuals do. Be that cheating or being chronically single and going on hook up apps for sex. The second you start dating your supposed to swear away your libido towards others forever until you break up.

If that's your form of chastity play with your partner, I am not here to stop you. However, consenting partners deciding they are good with each other fucking other people isn't wrong.

Polyamory is Oppressing Women

Where in the terfy world have I heard people claiming someone else's private lives are actually just oppressing cis women. Can cis/het dudes say "Hey girl, I'm polyamarous so it wasn't cheating when I fucked your best friend" sure they can but that was still cheating. People don't even time to understand Non-monogamy to know that the vast majority of polyam people would say that it is cheating to have sex with another person without informing your partner or agreeing in advance you both can sleep with anyone you want.

Again, I don't give a shit about cis/het dudes, send them to the sun, I don't care but here they are used as a hypnotical device to attack other queer people. The OP who was getting harassed on mass was Pansexual and most everyone I have seen say Polyamory is queer has been some form of queer person. I don't know if you know this but cis/het dudes do not want to be queer, they don't want to be counted among the homosexuals on account that many of them are homophobic and transphobic.

This simply willingly ignores that many women are polyamarous. If you look at many poly groups you'll see lots of women there looking to date men and women. If you go on dating apps like her you'll see lots of polyamarous women. If you go to one trans women's discord server you'll see lots of polyamarous women there. You can see polyamarous lesbians

Polyamory Is Oppressive

Typically they form at some form of Polygamy and go like, see, polyamory is oppressive and you all act like your better then us! This utterly ignores that to this day monogamy has not unpacked it's roots as a system of ownership. The history of dating for love is actually ridiculously small in the white world. Monogamy was just one of several systems of women being sold to men by the men in their lives. One that took root and was forced on many many many people's who did not practice this form of oppression or oppressing women at all until Christians came to their land.

Polyamory can be unethical as can many other forms of non-monogamy and some are rooted in systems of ownership just like monogamy is rooted in that. The reality is our hearts are not ethical anyway, we can't expect love to be perfect and utterly unproblematic but also there are forms of polyamory that are ethical.

Polyamory Is Just A Choice

I saved this one for last because this one is feelings based where the others have provable facts this one people can simply chose to believe me or not. However, I want to talk about wider queer theory for a second to really practically engage this idea. While the popular narrative is that being queer is not a choice some queer theorists have pushed back on this idea. The main queer counter arguments are We Chose Our Own Actions and If It Was A Choice I'd Chose It.

We Chose Own Actions poses us with the idea that while our internal feelings might not be a choice we chose how we act on our choices and queerness is choosing to express and live outside of what we are told. That queerness itself is the choice of acting against the cishetero systems of control. So it doesn't matter if a Republican law maker is secretly gay, he wouldn't be queer because queerness in this model is a choice, it's an identity we chose.

Then the If It Was A Choice It Chose It model says, so what if it was a choice. It choses to simply ignore internal feelings and say it doesn't matter why I want to kiss other women, the fact I chose to do it is consensually with other women who chose to kiss women in itself is valid and worthy of respect. That there is nothing shameful about being queer and therefore if they could chose to be queer that is enough to be respected. This simply says being gay is great, I like being gay, I'd pick it every time and you can't stop me and I will be respected.

We went over these models to say that even if you end up disagreeing with me, that being non-mongamous is in fact not a choice to you that that doesn't necessarily excluded it from being queer and that doesn't mean that Polyamarous people don't deserve respect or rights.

However, to me being polyamarous is core to who I am. It is not a choice for me but I would chose it every time. I would never want to get rid of my 15 year relationship with my Fiancé or my 8 year relationship with my girlfriends in Scotland or any other relationship I'm a part of. To me it's natural to want to be with other people, to feel romantic feelings and it feels gross to me to suggest that I should suppress those feelings or if I did that it would be morally better.

I was in high school when I started dating my Fiancé, even then Freshmen year of high school I told them, "Hey if you wanna date other people, that's okay". At the time, It was mostly because we lived an "unbareable" thirty minutes away from one another, sometimes an hour in traffic. "Worlds away" and unable to drive I really wanted them to be able to be loved and have everything they wanted in a relationship. They did not act on that for years and years. Many years later we talk about polyamory more seriously, I had feelings for my now 8 year long distance relationship GFs. We had all been friends, they helped me come out as trans, we got on so perfectly, and there was a guy friend of ours that they had been kinda attracted to and wanted to try to feel things out with. We agreed that we would explore our feelings and stuff.

From there we've been actively identifying as polyamorous, there was bumps in the road, I was not a perfect girlfriend and I misunderstood how Polyamory worked like thinking we all had to want to date each other and realizing that was not the case. It felt right to be polyam and it kept feeling right as we met people, had feelings and let our relationships evolve to wherever they went naturally, disclosing with each other obviously but we love talking about crushes and dates and stuff together. We've never dated the same person and we probably never will but we love each other and love seeing each other be loved. This is core to who I am, my Fiancé is my soul mate, but my soul isn't small, it's big and it has other soul mates and sweet loves.

It what comes natural to me and it would feel as bad to me to stop being polyamorous as to go back into the closet about being asexual, trans or being a lesbian. To me it's the part of my identity that is probably most in practice in that I talk to my GFs every single day, I live with my Fiancé, their actively part of my life every single day and I am open to new feelings every single day. Even with a recent break up with one of my Girlfriend's of nearly two years I not once wished I was monogamous, my heart was in pain but I still loved being polyam.

I don't have anything else to say on this topic really, I don't care if I get dunked on, to me, this is who I am. I don't particularly love "the polyam community" as a wider hole, I am in my own lesbian niche. Still, I think even the unfortunately straight among us deserve to have the right to love who they love. Nothing anyone stays is gonna get me to suddenly see my love as selfish or something.

[If you want more polyamorous sapphic art to exist in the world maybe consider throwing me a few bucks on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can afford to make more.]

#polyamarous #polyamory #Poly #Polyam #Queer Theory #Poly queer #Polyam queer #polyamarous queer #Queer

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fantasy-on-parchment · 2 years

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Yes, moobell, yes I can <3

You’re not him.

Summary: Evangeline begins to hear gossip around Wolf Hall of what is expected of her when Apollo wakes up to resume their wedding night. Anxious to not make a mistake, she seeks help in a field she’s not particularly skilled in…

Warnings: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF AGE AND CONSENTING. Evangeline is rather innocent in this, as I imagine she comes from a rather pure culture, loss of v-card, MINORS DNI, unprotected. I don’t know what else should go here so plz let me know if you find something! This is my first time writing this so… I’m learning:)

I will edit when I read through it

“I wonder how she feels about how quickly he dropped into a coma…” the maid whispered from the hall. Evangeline halted in her travel down the corridor, wondering if she should make herself known.

“Me as well,” it sounded like one of the kitchen servants, “and right before their wedding night, they didn’t even get to… enjoy.”

There was a giggle from both parties, Evangeline’s breath halted in her chest. Were they really about to talk about her love life so openly?

“I wonder if it’ll resume when he wakes up?”

Would it?

“Oh most certainly,” the servant confirmed, “the princes have always been known to be very expectant after marriage.”

More giggles. Evangeline couldn’t breath.

She had never done any of what they were referring to, wasn’t even entirely sure how it worked. Obviously in school her and her friends would giggle when they found out what went where. But she never understood much of the appeal, and purity was always lectured to her by her stepmother.

The maids voice dropped to a whisper, “but how expecting will he be of her?”

Evangeline cringed, would they please stop giggling!?

“Oh very, it’s all the kitchen is talking about. The princes like their woman to be experienced, less for them to deal with—“

Evangeline chose this point to turn down the corridor, interrupting the conversation with an innocent look on her face. She came upon the two young women, both with their hair pulled into tight buns atop their heads. She turned her lips up into an unknowing smile as the girls gawked in shame.

“Your majesty!”

“We were just—“

She held up a hand, “I was simply passing through on my way to have a private dinner. I did not hear any of whatever you believe you have the time to gossip about.”

She hated being rude, or even formal with the castle workers. She treated her personal maids as friends, and thanked the staff any chance she got. But she couldn’t help the bite that entered her voice, feeling like their conversation had been an invasion of privacy. It was no one’s business what her sexual whereabouts were, besides her and her partner.

Not that she had a partner, ever.

She brushed past the girls without another glance, feeling their eyes on her until she turned into the dinning room. The hall was almost empty, since it was so late. The public dinner having happened hours before, but Evangeline opted for a private dinner.

So no one occupied the space, save a head of golden hair.

She stared at the back of his head, contemplating. Should she take the seat across from him, or opt for a seat further down the table and act like he didn’t exist?

She had gotten quite used to him the past few months, but that’s not to say they were friends by any means. He did poison her husband after all. Yet, out of every noble and servant she had to tolerate every day, his company was the least unpleasant.

She fiddled with her hands, unsure when the deep, half-hearted voice spoke.

“Well?”

He made no move to turn to her, simply lifting his fork to his mouth once more. As if he hadn’t spoken in the first place.

The question didn’t halt her hesitation, though, and he must have sensed that. He turned halfway toward her, motioning to the seat across from him. Evangeline let out a breath she didn’t know she was keeping, forcing her feet to carry her to where he sat.

She took her seat, adjusting her evening gown accordingly, and waited until a plate was placed in front of her. Potatoes, green beans, and a side salad. Tonight was nothing special.

She shifted nervously, truth be told, she couldn’t shake her head of what she came across in the corridor. She knew it was something she’d have to confront at some point in her life, most likely in this marriage. But with everything going on the past year, it definitely wasn’t in the forefront of her concerns.

Until now.

She cleared her throat, bringing Jacks eyes up to meet hers. She wanted to distract herself, and he was usually good for that: “So, what have you been up to today?”

The fate sat down his fork, shifting to lay his elbows on the table. She cringed at the memory of her stepmother swatting her arm when she would do that. “I must admit, not much. I haven’t had to travel today or make any trades.”

Evangeline inwardly cursed. She had been hoping he’d have some crazy tale to tell her. For what it was worth, Jacks was excellent at getting her wrapped up in a story, holding on for the ending. They always ended the same way. Jacks always came out on top.

She nodded politely, not showing her disappointment. Still, she thought she’d tug at loose ends, “Nothing particularly interesting?”

Remarkably, after a moment, Jacks seemed to lighten up at this. Evangelines heart leapt at the opportunity. “Actually, there’s been quite the fuss around Wolf Hall. All the maids and servants are gossiping more than usual.”

Her fork hit the plate with a gasp from her mouth, if her heart just leapt it wasn’t beating anymore. But she was certainly breathing faster.

“What have you heard?” She demanded.

When he didn’t respond immediately, she repeated herself. But he simply rested his head in his hands, taking a moment to study her with a tilted smirk. He no doubt saw the shaking of her fingers, the bruises on her lips from where she bit too hard, and the desperation in her blue eyes. He leaned forward, she leaned back.

“Just that everyone’s excited for the coronation, Little Fox. The women cannot wait to see what dress you’ll pick out.” He said, his smile innocent, but his eyes still roved over her with suspicion.

Oh, of course. She took a deep breath. Her coronation was less than a month away, and the castle has been humming with preparations. It was part of the reason she chose to dine alone. She was bombarded with questions all day long, about streamers and flowers and entrees and lighting, she just needed some space.

“However,” the prince drawled, “I would love to know what you’ve apparently been hearing.”

Evangeline gawked at him. She had never talked about such risqué topics with anyone, most certainly not a male. She wasn’t even sure it was socially acceptable.

“Oh,” she tried to laugh it off, “nothing at all, I just get startled when there’s new gossip. You never know what could happen next!” She threw her hands up in a shrug, but she could see he was not buying it.

He hummed, shifting his plate aside and giving her his full attention, “So it’s personal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigned calm.

“Mhmm, were the servants whispering something about you, Princess Evangeline?” He relaxed back in his seat. It was a common dining chair, but he made it look like a throne.

Evangeline opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she even were allowed to.

She settled for: “It was entirely inappropriate, nothing that should be repeated.”

But that must have been the wrong thing to say, as she watched his blue eyes glow brighter. His hun sounded more like a moan, and Evangeline wasn’t entirely sure what it did to her. He seemed to contemplate his thoughts for a moment, as if putting together the information she’s given him.

“Was it, perhaps, about you and… Apollo?”

Her food seemed to catch in her throat at that, throwing her into a coughing fit. “Jacks, it’s none of your business.”

“Neither was it their’s, yet they wanted to discuss it behind your back. Perhaps if you tell me, I can offer comfort.” He spoke the words calmly this time, without a hint of amusement or mockery.

But Evangeline wanted to laugh so hard at the idea of him comforting her, that she actually stopped coughing so she could look up at him.

She stilled when she saw how serious he looked. Genuinely, she thought he wanted to help. He sat straight yet looked relaxed, and his face rested in a position that screamed he was otherworldly. It made her second guess herself. If she were to discuss it with anyone, who else besides the person she’d been in close proximity with for so long? It’s not like she could discuss it with Marisol or her stepmother. Obviously not her husband.

She pushed her food out of the way as well. “I was walking in the hall when I heard a maid and kitchen servant talking about how I must feel about Apollo’s “coma.” I didn’t think anything of it until the conversation took a turn…”

She trailed off to catch her breath, fear crawling up her throat at what he might think. Usually she could take his mockery, but right now she was too on edge.

“They began…discussing… my husband and I’s activities on our wedding night.”

She hoped that would be enough for him to understand, and it seemed like he did, but he didn’t seem to process her stress. “And?” He asked, eyes roving over her.

“They said… princes can be particularly…expecting of their wives.” She began to fiddle with her skirt, not wanting to meet his eyes.

She sensed him shift uncomfortably, “Evangeline.”

She made herself meet his eyes. They were piercing, determined.

“You never have to do anything that you do not want.”

Oh.

She opened her mouth to clear up the miscommunication, but he was already talking.

“Little Fox, if the prince were to ever force you into anything, I would be right down the hall.” He was gripping the edge of his seat now, and she was scrambling to clear her mistake. “He wouldn’t get any—“

“No, no no no.” She threw her hands up. He looked startled for once, and she gave them both a moment to breath before continuing. “I mean, they would expect me to be experienced.”

His brows furrowed at that, similarly to when she first started explaining. He didn’t fully understand. “I don’t see how that creates an issue…”

Evangeline felt as if her throat was suddenly closing. She didn’t know how to admit she had never done anything with anyone, no matter how common it was for women to be required to “save” themselves. She felt foolish talking about a topic she didn’t have a firm grasp on.

Instead, she placed her napkin on the table. “Um, never mind, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

But just as she stood, so did he. When she met his eyes, she saw understanding dawn as he must’ve seen the anxious look in hers.

“Oh…” he whispered, taking a moment to find himself before plastering a smirk on her porcelain skin, “well that’s an easy remedy.”

She stopped stepping away from the table, “Excuse me?”

“It is.” Jacks shrugged, “there’s plenty of young men in the village who would drop to their knees for a princess. Literally.” His smirk was insufferable, and Evangeline didn’t even know what to say.

So she settled, “Goodnight, Jacks.” And stormed down the hall to her room.

Evangeline slammed her door hard, hoping he could hear how much he irritated her at times. How was that supposed to be comforting? He simply dismissed her dilemma by telling her to find some random bloke in a tavern to fuck. Evangeline didn’t want that.

Evangeline wanted someone she knew, preferably a husband. But obviously that wasn’t an option. She wanted to at least be attracted to the male of her choosing.

Jacks served a good point in regard to fixing her issue physically, but not emotionally. Yes, she would need to fuck someone to actually get rid of her virginity. But she couldn’t just find someone she wanted to do that with that easily!

She needed someone she knew, someone she was around quite a bit, someone who would know what he was doing. Most importantly, someone who would understand it’s a one time thing.

She groaned, why was she even considering this?

Especially when only one name fit the list she created in her head. And it was someone she couldn’t even kiss.

She groaned, “Of course,” before frustratingly unlacing her dress and leaving herself in only her white slip. She kicked off her heels and threw herself into her bed, letting out another groan into a pillow.

She hated getting worked up over a stupid male standard just because Apollo wouldn’t want to deal with whatever her virginity entailed. It really wasn’t her problem if he was grossed out. Maybe he shouldn’t be partaking in the activity then.

But still, she had so many issues lately, she didn’t want another to complicate anything. So, if this was one she could fix, she'd fix it.

But that meant a very awkward conversation.

She wanted to scream, but instead she stuffed a pillow in her own face and forced herself to find sleep.

In the morning she stared in the mirror with a different plan in mind.

She didn't know what she had been thinking, asking such a thing of Jacks. There was absolutely no way he'd agree to bed her, and he would probably mock her for believing he'd find her enjoyable in the first place. It was absolutely off the table. Not happening.

So instead, she wore a thin blue dress so light it would blend in with the snow outside. It hugged her waist and dropped to the floor smoothly, accompanied by a slightly darker blue corset with frilly white lace on the rim. The light colors complimented her hair in an attention-grabbing way.

She'd need to grab a lot of attention if she were going to openly walk up to a stranger in the marketplace and shamelessly flirt with him.

She rested her hands on the counter and sighed, how was she to do this? Obviously, she was willing to go through with it, she knew when she turned 18 it would happen sometime in her future.

But what if someone recognized her and she was shamed for finding another while her husband was in a coma. She'd be called selfish for her selfless acts. But it was just what she had to do.

She stood straight and took in her upper half. The corset was flattering, but she found herself scooping her hands into each cup and pulling her breasts up higher. Perhaps more skin would be more enticing.

Without another thought, she turned out of her adjoined bathroom and into her room. She grabbed a dark blue cloak out of her wardrobe and tied it around her shoulders. She was doing this, and she would not think of backing out anymore. She wanted to do this.

Stepping into the hallway, she rushed down the stairs and into the sitting room. Nobles laid about on armchairs and blankets with pillows strewn about the room. Servants flitted about, and Evangeline quickly waved one over.

A young man scrambled in front of her, and she offered a warm smile. "Send word for a carriage, will you please?"

The young boy bowed, clearly happy to get away from all the rich faces in the room: "Certainly, your majesty."

It was as she watched him leave that Evangeline felt eyes on her. It was often people gawked, given she was now a princess when months before she was a peasant. But these eyes were suspicious and, as she scanned the room, most weren't focused on her face or unusual hair. Most were focused on regions below her neck.

All except a pair of blazing blue eyes from an armchair. They were burning with anger as their owner lifted himself from his seat and strode towards her with calculated steps. She wanted to step back, confused by the expression on his face.

When he finally reached her, his hand lifted as if he was going to grab her arm and pull her out of the room, but he remembered they had an audience. Instead, he cleared his throat, offering a hand.

“Your majesty, may I have a word?” His tone was polite, and it certainly didn’t match his eyes.

Evangeline stared at his waiting hand. If she said no, he’d probably cause a scene by dragging her out of the room anyways. But if she said yes, what did he even want to speak about? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done to anger him.

Perhaps another noble had brought something to his attention.

She smiled, “Of course, Lord Jacks.” But she didn’t take his hand. Instead, she led him out of the room and into a more private corridor.

This is when he decided it was appropriate to grab her forearm and aggressively pull her into an empty closet. He sighed as he closed the door and stood between her and the exit, his eyes running down her dress and taking in her curled hair.

Her huff of annoyance finally brought his eyes back to hers, “Can you please explain to me the reason for pulling me into a broom closet this early in the morning?!”

He crossed his arms and gave a pointed look to her bodice, “Where are you going dressed like that?” He demanded.

Her brows lifted, absolutely shocked, “Into the village to look for a willing partner, like you suggested might I add.” She put simply, it wasn’t like it was a secret.

His jaw looked like it might fall from his perfect face, “You’re not serious.”

“I absolutely am!” She crossed her arms as well, noticing how it brought his attention to her corset. His eyes could not get enough of her, it seemed, and it made her think back to her thoughts from last night.

But if there was no way he’d want her, then what was his issue?

“No.”

She scoffed, “Excuse me, Lord Jacks, but I don’t recall you having the ability to give orders. Especially over my decisions.”

She went to shove past him, sure her carriage was waiting at the front gates. But when she reached for the door, his hand closed around her wrist.

She gasped as she was spun around and her back slammed against the door. His solid chest was suddenly on her, his weight caging her in. The thrill it sent to her core was foolish, and she wasn’t sure she had ever felt such a thing.

“You will not,” he put so much bite behind his words she almost wanted to listen, “bed a stranger just because your little prince can’t handle a little blood.”

She was inclined to think he cared, and in a burst of confidence, wanted to test her theory.

“Why? Why does the thought of me allowing someone to touch me bother you?” She demanded.

“It doesn’t!” He slammed his palms on either side of her head.

“Then let. Me. Go. I’m losing daylight and I need to find a willing man!” She pushed against his chest, wanting to turn and leave the prince of hearts to sulk.

“But you’re not willing!”

“Yes I am!”

“You can’t be willing with a stranger!“

The outburst had her taken aback, confused by what he might mean. She let out a humorless laugh, “And tell me, who in this castle would willingly bed the princess who’s husband could have whoever she chooses killed?!”

Silence settled between them at that, and she watched his eyes shift between hers as he thought about another approach.

He seemed to take a deep breath before he started, “Do you know the first thing about what you’re planning to do?”

She rolled her eyes “Yes, I know what goes where, I don’t need an anatomy lesson, thank you.”

“No.” He leaned closer, his breath fanning her face, “Do you understand how much it will hurt?”

Her brows furrowed at that, she thought it was supposed to be pleasure, not pain. She shook her head, “You’re just trying to scare me.”

“No, Evangeline, this is not something you want to experience with a stranger.”

“I don’t have another option, Jacks!”

He growled, low in his throat, seething as he hung his head and curled his fists next to her hair.

She simply waited for him to realize he’d lost, for him to let her go.

But then a hand was at her waist, squeezing slightly, and another was tilting her jaw to meet his eyes. He pulled her close, “Doing what you have to do is not willing.”

She wanted to protest, say that “yes, it was.” But then his knee slotted itself between her thighs, hiking her dress up. His lips parted and his eyes followed his fingers and they brushed along her cape, over her shoulder, before undoing where it was tied around her neck. It fell to the floor seamlessly, and she inhaled at the feeling of his fingers grazing her skin.

What was he doing?

“Being willing is how your body responds to someone’s touch, how it feels like little fireworks erupting on your skin.” Her back arched as his hands found her corset, subconsciously pushing into him. “It’s breathing in their scent and being overwhelmed. It’s not wanting,” his mouth hovered by her ear, “it’s needing.”

She felt her hands place themselves on his chest, feeling lightheaded. Her thighs squeezed around his knee and she gasped when she felt his hands pulling her skirts up until he could get underneath them.

“Jacks—“

But she was cut off by her own moan when his cold fingers pressed against the warmth between her thighs. She was trembling suddenly, and his free hand came back up to hold her in place. He didn’t move his fingers, watching her reaction as if waiting for her to push away. She wanted to, she knew she should, but something suddenly washed over her.

He tutted, “Do you know how wet you are, Little Fox?”

Wet? She felt so embarrassed. The same feeling between her thighs had erupted on certain occasions. The night in the crypt when Jacks licked at her neck, for instance. But she’d never known why, and never wanted to ask someone.

But he had found it, and her eyes stung with humiliation. She wanted to pull away, but god it felt so good.

She whimpered when he pulled his hand away and out from under her skirts, his knee finding that spot once again. She felt even more humiliated when she ground down against it, feeling as if her body was reacting without her say.

But Jacks’ eyes held adoration as his mouth closed over his glistening fingers, groaning at the taste. He sucked them clean as his other hand formed a fist in her curls.

Then he was leaning over her again, his hand pulling her head back: “This,” his knee pushed harder, “this is willing.”

And then he was gone, pulling her away from the door and fixing her skirts. But before he left he tugged at her wrist again.

“I expect you in my room when the sun sets, don’t make me hunt you, Little Fox.”

When the door closed behind him, she found herself sliding down it, absolutely dumbfounded by what just happened.

But one thing he said filled her thoughts.

Hesitantly, Evangeline spread her legs and pulled her skirts up. She slowly ran her hand up her thigh before pressing against her silk panties with a moan.

She was soaked, somehow, but she had never been told before why her body would respond that way.

Still, she laid her head against the door. She was supposed to meet Jacks tonight, and it sounded as if he had specific plans. The thought made her face heat.

She didn’t have the ability to reach Jacks’s eyes through the entirety of dinner. Sometime between the morning and then she’d had yet another change of heart, realizing that although she had been willing, he had not specified if he was. What if the whole show of pressing his hand against her was to prove his point?

She shuddered at the thought, scooting her plate away and moving her chair back. She sat at a long table full of Lords and Ladies of the prince’s court, and many of them averted their eyes to her as she stood.

Folding her hands in front of her, she offered a tentative smile: “I hope none of you mind, but I’ve just remembered I still have some tasks I need to perform. I hope you all enjoy your dinner, but I must retire early tonight.” She hoped no one had noticed her glanced toward the window, where the sun was quickly setting.

When no one protested, she scurried out of the dinner hall and quickly up the stairs to her room. She locked the door and sat on her pink silk sheets, burying her face in her hands.

He probably felt like she was just a burden he needed to quickly get rid of, or that she was purposefully pushing him into this. After all, he had been the one to marry her off to Apollo. Apollo would be the one to want to bed her, not him.

She groaned, pushing off the bed as quickly as she had sat and storming to her curtains. When she pulled them back, just a sliver of sun had been showing. She took a deep breath.

“Don’t make me hunt you, Little Fox.”

He had been determined, then, if he wasn’t giving himself a way out.

But there was no way he’d want this, right?

Evangeline opened her wardrobe next, wanting to change into the most modest thing she could find. Hopefully that would send the signal that he didn’t have to do this.

Human or not, he had a choice as well. Obviously.

She pulled out a white dress with a neckline covering her whole chest. It had a fitted bodice and full-length sleeves. The bodice went to her waist and flowing skirts covered all the way to her feet. It made her cringe.

It was perfect.

After she had changed, she thought she looked a lot like one of the women she would see outside her village’s church. One of the ones who would often stop her to recite some verses. She had always hurried away, but at least the dress got the point across.

She wanted to wait a few more minutes to ground herself, but a sudden thought entered her head.

I’ll give you two minutes before you find me in your room, Little Fox.

She gasped at the intrusion, wondering whether or not to obey his warning. She didn’t want to cause a scene over something like this, but she couldn’t wrap her head around losing her virginity to the prince of hearts.

Still, she turned around, slipping on a pair of slippers before opening her door and slowly making her way down the corridor. Jacks room wasn’t far from hers, just a right turn and she’d be at her door.

For once, she wished it was further.

When she came to stand in front of it, she didn’t know what to do. Her heart was running miles in her chest, and she felt like she might sway on her feet if she didn’t do something. But she also didn’t wanna barge in, so she lifted her hand in a soft knock.

The door opened almost instantly, Jacks waiting on the other side to grab her wrist and pull her in. She almost cried out at the sudden movement, heightening her anxiety.

When the room stopped spinning, they both just looked at each other for a second.

She took that moment to take him in, the way he was her. He wore a loose white shirt, the collar held together by laces, and loose black denims. He looked rugged and determined, if the gleam in his eyes was anything to go by.

She watched him look over her dress, his eyebrows furrowing: “You changed…”

Not giving thought to the way he trailed off, Evangeline raised her hands and took a step back as he did forward. “Listen, Jacks.”

“I’m listening.” But his eyes were trained on her dress, as though he was glaring through the fabric.

“This morning was a mistake, I—“

That brought his eyes towards her, and he stood still, “Do you no longer want this, Evangeline?”

Her jaw dropped, dumbfounded at the thought of him worried about her consent. But, of course he would be, Jacks was a fate - not a monster.

“No- I mean- yes, I do. But I do not want this to be an obligation to you,” she spoke quickly before he could interrupt, “You obviously have a say here as well and I would never want you to have to do this if you don’t want…”

He took another daring step forward, processing her words. “Don’t want what, Little Fox?”

The smirk erupting on his face looked so predatory, Evangeline stepped back again until she was pressed against the wall. She willed herself not to stutter: “This… me.”

She wanted to cringe, waiting for him to mock her, laugh at her expense, then slam the door in her face.

He took another step, “And why, pray tell, would I not want you?”

She blinked in confusion, it seemed an odd question. “You’ve never expressed want towards me.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“But…” she felt her frustration building, “but, it’s not! You married me off to another!”

His voice was calm, but he matched her volume, “What are you afraid of, Little Fox?”

She ignored the question, regrettably blurting the first thing that came to mind: “You’re not him.”

That seemed to alight something in the fate, because next thing she knew he was in front of her. His elbows on either side of her head, “Say that again.”

It was a whisper, deadly, but she wouldn’t cower. “You married me off to him, he’s the one who wants me. He’s the only one I should want, You’re not him.”

There was a dark chuckle, low enough to be a growl. He said one word that startled her bones, “Should?”

“What?”

“He’s the only one you should want?” He leaned into her ear, “You always give yourself away, pet.”

She placed her hands on his chest, “You don’t want this.”

“Tut tut, wrong again,” teeth at her earlobe bit down softly, a shiver running down her spine, “You gave me an out, Evangeline, I’m still here.”

A single hand roved across her waist, his eyes taking in her dress again. “You’re right, I’m not him. He would have hated the way this dress hides you so well.”

When there was quote for a second, she took a breath, “And you?”

His next words would replay in her mind for the rest of her life, at least. As he hiked her knee over his hip, pressing against her until she felt…

“You look like innocence incarnate, and I can’t wait to ruin you.”

With a gasp, she was pulled into his chest as he hiked her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. This way the silk of her dress skirts slid up her thighs and around her waist, providing less fabric between the two of them. Evangeline stifled a quick whimper at the feeling of him… all of him.

Before she could fully process the length of him, he has them turned around and he gently laid her on the bed. The movement was slow but held a resistance that told her if this wasn’t her first time, he might not have been so gentle.

But if this wasn’t her first time, they wouldn’t be doing this at all.

She didn’t like that thought, and then she didn’t like the thought of not liking that thought… so perhaps, she figured, tonight it would be okay to simply not think.

That was when she felt his calloused hands running down her calves to her knees, and all thoughts flew out the window regardless of what she had figured.

He had placed her on the cushioned pillows in the middle of the deep blue sheets. She propped herself on her elbows and watched with parted lips as he settled between her thighs. His eyes were a blazing blue, glazed over as if he couldn’t get enough of her… but that couldn’t be right.

His hands rested softly on her thighs, fingers gripping slightly in a way that reminded her of what he might be holding back. He cleared his throat, “If at any point, and I mean any, Evangeline, you change your mind about this, you just have to say the word. Okay?”

Evangeline barely heard the words, feeling something warm build in her stomach and a pressure beginning to knot itself, she did her best to nod her head, “Okay.”

He nodded, leaning down close to her. She let her head fall to the side as his teeth grazed her neck, careful not to let his lips touch her. He let his tongue flutter along a spot he’d previously sank his teeth into, and she couldn’t stop herself from falling onto her back with a moan. He followed her down, pressing his chest to hers and placing his free hand on her waist.

After another minute of his lips roving her neck while her hands clawed at his shirt, he pulled off and dropped his head onto her shoulder. It was vulnerable, intimate…

“Jacks?” She practically whimpered. Was he going to stop? Was this it?

He’d barely touched her and she didn’t want it to end.

“Just give me a second,” he whispered, “‘gonna make this feel good, gotta get you ready, Little Fox.”

She breathed deep, she was affecting him. She could hardly believe she had such an ability.

After a moment, he lifted himself onto his knees, pulling her with him. He lifted her dress, “Take this off for me, will you?”

She nodded dazzily as he helped her pull the fabric past her hips, from there she pulled it up over her waist and head. Once it was off, she was left in a slip and a pathetic pair of panties she hadn't thought much of that morning. She cringed, feeling exposed.

But Jacks was staring down at her figure as if she weren't as replaceable as he had once called her. He looked as if he wanted to devour her, and it conflicted her when she wasn't appalled by the idea of being completely ruined by him. In fact, it made something inside her pulse, throb even. If he wasn't sat between her thighs, she thought she might close them in need of some friction.

But there he was, unmoving. Her slip was a pale white and hung loosely at her curves. It showed her figure blatantly, and she found herself trying to scoot back to cover herself.

Jacks' hands gripped her thighs again, tighter, pulling her closer than she was before. He was sat on his knees, so her chest came flush with his stomach as he leaned into her, "He might let you hide, Little Fox..." as he trailed off, she felt his hands grip her slips hem, "But, like you made obvious, I'm not him."

It was becoming quite apparent.

But still, no one had seen her body, and she couldn't help being a little scared. She was aware it would be somewhat necessary for the act she was looking forward to. She had also told herself she would never look to someone else for approval of her body, but she just couldn't help wanting Jacks to like what he saw.

He must've heard her thoughts, which shamed her more when he lifted her chin in his hand. She sucked in a breath at the glow of his eyes, she'd never get used to how unnatural they were.

"I've held your body on countless occasions, felt the curves and grooves of your waist and thighs. Dreamed of it even. I wouldn't be here in, admittedly, I didn't want to see what you hide under all those corsets.

She wasn't sure how he took away her doubt with one line, or maybe she was just intrigued by the thought of him dreaming of her. Had he dreamed of this?

When he tugged once more at her slip, she let him raise it over her head. The fabric glided along her nipples, and she shuddered at the thought of what his hands must feel like.

She didn't have to wonder long, though, because that's right where they landed when the cloth hit the floor. It was rushed, so abrupt she found herself landing back on the bed. He followed her once more. His hands squeezing, gliding over her stomach before finding her breasts once more. He twisted and teased, and she couldn't help her moans. She had never thought that action could feel so good.

When she arched her back, his tongue and teeth for her collarbone, the crook in her neck, the swell of her breasts.

"Jacks..." she whined when his hands left her, sliding down to her hips. He held down her wiggling, and she thought to thank him. But that would be weird, right?

The idea threw out the window when his tongue circled her breast, and suddenly she found a new favorite sensation as he bit down. He was so careful with how his lips touched her, making sure they didn't move in a kiss, and her heart panged when she thought about how much practice he must have with that.

He wasn't hers. He's not him.

She could feel that unfamiliar pool between her thighs again, and suddenly she wanted to be touched so badly she felt her legs spread on their own.

"Jacks?" It was feeble, quiet. She wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't hear it. In fact, she almost hoped he hadn't when his head lifted from her skin.

"Hm?" It was almost impatient, and she felt a smile form on her lips at how obviously he wanted to keep going.

She didn't answer him, though. Instead, she took a deep breath and laid her hand over his on her hip. She watched his brows furrow as she picked it up from her skin but understanding dawned as she dragged it to the hem of the pathetic panties she still donned.

A smirk broke across his featured, and she watched as he slowly slid off of her again. His mouth parted and she felt his fingers slide under the fabric, tickling the skin underneath. His eyes found hers again, dominating in the way they asked for approval again.

"Please." She found herself whispering, begging.

It was all he needed to slide the fabric down her thighs and over her knees. She closed her legs instinctively, and the look he sent her was so fucking intense it made her wonder just how rough he could've truly been with her. When his hands closed on her knees and aggressively pushed them apart, she cried out, but found an answer to her question.

The moan that accompanied the cry answered a different question entirely. Maybe... rough Jacks was something she wanted to see. Badly.

His eyes trained between her legs, and he returned between her knees to hold them apart. She almost sighed when he lifted a hand and dragged a single finger through her, watching her back arch the entire time he did.

And then he was hovering over her again, that same finger taped at her lips. The smell of arousal hit her nose, and he took her gasp as a chance to slip that finger between her lips.

It wasn't the best taste, but she couldn't say it was bad either. And by the way Jacks' eyes trained on her lips made her moan around the digit.

Then he was leaning in, his nose brushing her cheek, "Who is this cunt soaked for, hmm?"

She couldn't respond for obvious reasons, but it was also obvious he didn't want her too yet.

His teeth found her ear again before he whispers, "A hint, Little Fox? It isn't your precious husband."

Her cheeks flamed when his finger left her, returning between her legs. It circled the bud there, that she had tentatively touched once before but was so shocked by the pleasure it sent through her that she never did again.

She realized, now, he wanted an answer. She tried to relax from the feeling shooting through her, and whimpered out a squeaky: "You..."

He laughed at her pitifulness, and it was at that point that she realized her hands weren't doing anything.

Oh god.

She felt awful being on the receiving end when she had asked him, after all.

She tried to push up, but he kept her in place. "Jacks..."

His finger didn't stop, was actually circling her entrance now.

"Yes, pet?"

"S...stop..."

His movements halted, but he didn't pull away and instead eyed her suspiciously. "What's wrong?"

She refused to meet his eyes, instead darting her around the room. "It's just... shouldn't I be the one doing things to... you? Since I... asked for this..."

He hummed, and confused her once more as his fingers returned to their movements, "I am." He said simply.

"But--"

She was cut off as a single finger entered her, filling her with a sting and she cried out again. But his other hand came up to her hair, brushing and stroking comfortably.

"Relax..." his voice soothed, "It won't stretch so bad if you relax, let me in, baby."

She whimpered, trying as hard as she could to relax her hips. She matched his breathing, and soon the single digit felt less like an intrusion.

He groaned against her neck, "You're going to feel so good, just gotta get you ready first."

The breathlessness of his voice extended her pleasure, heightened her desire. "Oh..." she moaned when the finger turned into two. It stung, but not nearly as bad as before. They also brushed so lovely against her, scissoring probably in a way to prepare her. She felt her body arch off the bed at the feeling of them going deeper, even when she thought they couldn't anymore. It was delicious, he was delicious.

"Jacks... I feel something..." She said after a minute. She felt tight, like a cord pulled at both ends, like she was standing at an edge with the adrenaline that came with the feeling of falling.

And then the fingers were gone, and she was begging for them back. Little "nos" and pleas to him, it was submissive and pitiful. Evangeline didn't care.

He was gone again, shushing her calmly as he worked to take his clothes off. He faced away from her as her heart drummed in anticipation. She watched the muscles of his back move and pull against each other as he worked his pants down his legs. And when he turned...

"Oh my god..." Her jaw hung. There was no way, no absolute way.

He was the first she had ever seen, so it wasn't like she could compare him to anyone. But compared to his fingers... there was no way.

He chuckled, crawling over her again. She couldn't help when he rubbed against her folds, and she moaned. It startled him, his eyes lighting when he settled his pelvis against hers.

He hummed in thought, "Interesting..."

She furrowed her brows as she watched him wrap his hand around himself, and just like he accidentally had before, he brushed the tip through her folds, pushing lightly against that bundle of nerves. It had her whimpering, sobbing almost, it felt so good.

"Yeah?" He prodded as he continued, teasing her, "Does my dick rubbing against your clit make you see stars, pet?"

When her eyes rolled back, she knew he had his answer. He chuckled again, repeating the motion a few times to gather her slickness. Then he paused at her hole once more.

She felt her bones lock up, they'd taken their time, but here they were.

He lowered to his elbow above her as his other hand kept him in place, "I want you to relax, and remember to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, wanting him to just do it, for fate's sake.

He took a deep breath as he watched her relax, then she felt his hips push against hers. He was entering her.

She gasped a breath. No. no, no, no, no. There was no way. She looked down, he was barely in, and she was full. So, so full.

"Too big..." she whispered, feeling herself squeeze around him, "You're too big."

He groaned when she clenched, "You can take it, relax."

She bit her lip, but he quickly pulled it out from under her teeth, "Breathe, baby."

She did, and he pushed further. Tears sprung, and she knew she couldn't hide them. It hurt. It ached and burned and felt like she was being split in half. There was no way any woman ever enjoyed this.

And yet, she couldn't imagine experiencing this with Apollo. She felt safe where she was, as Jacks wiped at the tears and traced smoothing circles on her skin. She hated how he felt so right between her thighs.

They both moaned when he bottomed out, feeling him hit that spot inside of her. It hurt everywhere but right there. She gripped his arms and felt him wrap his around her waist.

Then he was twisting them as he remained inside her. Suddenly he was below her, and she was straddling him with his hands on her hips and hers planted on his abs.

She felt unsteady, "Jacks...."

With a squeeze to her breasts, he smiled, "You've got this. Move when you're ready, baby."

She focused on the feeling and found it dissipating the longer she sat there. It was still achy, but it didn't burn anymore. She smiled knowing she was stretched around him, seeing the delight in his eyes.

She picked up her hips, and his hands helped guide her at first. But then she watched as his head fell back when she slowly took control, "Yeah, just like that... circle those hips."

She did, up and down, over and over. The pressure built as she listened to his groans and her whimpers. He pulsed inside her, and every so often his hands would slam her down really quickly so she would cry out, he would suddenly apologize as if remembering himself. But the more she felt it, she more she didn't mind how he got so lost in the pleasure he couldn't help losing a little control.

Suddenly his hand was at her back, arching her into him, and his teeth found her left nipple. She cried out, that sensation making her liquid in his hands. He moaned around her, and she did her best to keep moving. The pleasure overrode the pain now, and she felt so dizzy, so high on the drug that was the prince of hearts.

She felt her thighs begin to shake, and the whined, "I... I feel--"

"Let go, Evangeline, want to feel it..."

That was all it took for her to shout his name, her throat soar and her hips shaking. She clenched and unclenched around him, pretty soon feeling him let go inside her.

It was heaven, nirvana, ecstasy, watching his lips fall slack as his own eyes rolled. She stayed in her daze above him, watching. His lips looking so delicious, she wanted to feel them.

Yeah, feel them.

It was after she leaned down, placed her lips on his in the most fevered and passionate kiss, that they both realized what was happening. His mouth was reacting to hers, until his hand knotted in her curls and aggressively pulled her away.

She gasped as she sobered from her high, and his labored breathing did not even as he looked at her in a craze.

"Evangeline?" It was scared, hopeless, regret.

It took all of once second before she launched herself off of him, suddenly in a panic. Her knees nearly gave out when she stood, but she powered through, if only for the arm that reached to her.

"Evangeline!"

She stepped out of his reach, finding her slip and pulling it over her head. She had to get out, she had to get somewhere safe, so no one would know she died in Jacks' bed. Of all things, as least he wouldn't be blamed.

The thought of death crashed into her as she crashed into the door, her name being called behind her once again, accompanied by his feet hitting the floor. She pulled the door open and rushed down the corridor.

Curses flew left and right in her head, her bare feet hurting against the stone. But she found herself at her door anyways, pulling it open and closed behind her.

She crashed into her bed. Just breathing. Breathing.

Breathing.

She was still breathing.

Well, she didn't know how long the curse took. So, she sat herself at the pillows of her bed, wanting it to look as if she died in her sleep.

She waited and waited.

Crickets chirped outside.

Her eyes darted around the room. She took a deep breath, sat up.

She felt fine. The only minor uncomfort was the ache between her thighs... otherwise.

She brought her hands up into her vision, checking her any signs or a rash or something forming.

"I'm alive..."

I'm alive.

#smut #evajacks #the ballad of never after #tbona #romance #ouabh #jacks #prince of hearts #prompts #stephanie garber #angst