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#he’s never had any interest in telling people what to do and then declares himself king and threatens those who disobey with ‘punishment’??

lilflowerpot · 13 hours

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so you've talked a bit about Voltron and Last Airbender on this blog, and I was wondering about what both the galra populace in general and Lotor specifically would think of Zuko's refusal to fight his father. would it be viewed as noble or as disrespect/cowardice?

Zuko's conduct would be considered noble, but Ozai's was disgraceful.

Zuko: "If I'm going to lead this nation one day, don't you think I need to start learning as much as I can?"

One of the very first things we see of the events leading up to the Agni Kai, is Zuko's reasoning for even being present in that war council in the first place: he is determined to learn from his father and those whose council the Fire Lord keeps, so that he himself may be properly prepared to wear the Fire Nation crown when that burden ultimately falls to him. This is not only noble, but dutiful too, and shows an incredible level of self-awareness & responsibility given that Zuko was only t h i r t e e n at the time.

When one of Ozai's Generals explains his plan to sacrifice a division of entirely new recruits to an Earth Kingdom battalion, intending to use them as a diversion with the self-confessed expectation that they will all fail and die, Zuko's response is one of outrage—

Zuko: "You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?"

—and this is exceedingly telling of his moral character. Where all the veterans in that room take this to be an acceptable loss (and the General who suggested it in fact seeming quite perversely pleased with the idea), Zuko views these untested greenhorns not as pieces on a board, but people; his father's people, one day his people, and though everyone in that room sees great value in them and their loyalty to the Fire Nation, Zuko alone thinks not of how to exploit this but rather how to be worthy of their devotion rather than see it misplaced.

So from a galra perspective, Zuko has many of the qualities that I previously expressed would win Keith favour:

straightforward without a taste (let alone the aptitude) for mind-games

stands with absolute conviction and is willing to fight for what he believes in

kind, considerate, and loyal

Iroh: "The Fire Lord became very angry with him. He said that Prince Zuko's challenge of the General was an act of complete disrespect, and there was only one way to resolve this. [Agni Kai, a fire duel.] Zuko looked upon the old general he had insulted and declared that he was not afraid, but Zuko misunderstood. When he turned to face his opponent, he was surprised to see it was not the General. Zuko had spoken out against the General's plan, but by doing so in the Fire Lord's war room, it was the Fire Lord whom he had disrespected."

Now this is actually crucial to understanding Zuko's character and sense of loyalty, because he never intended to disrespect his father, and frankly I don't think he had any idea that Ozai had even taken offence until he was stood across from from at the Agni Kai.

Zuko: "Please, Father! I only had the Fire Nation's best interest at heart! I'm sorry I spoke out of turn!" Ozai: "You will fight for your honour." Zuko, falling to his knees, head bowed: "I meant you no disrespect! I am your loyal son." Ozai: "Rise and fight, Prince Zuko." Zuko: "I won't fight you." Ozai: "You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher."

By the end of this exchange, Zuko is on his knees, tears literally streaming down his face, and trembling like a leaf. He is terrified, and yet, despite that, we are explicitly told that Zuko outright refused to fight his father—nor did he resist in any other manner, or so we can assume by the placement of his burn scar being the entire front half of his face, rather than oh his arm had he shielded himself, or on his back had he run—and thus Ozai further condemns him, claiming that Zuko's refusal to fight him had been a display of "shameful weakness."

This would be significant to the Galra threefold.

For one, and I cannot stress this enough, Zuko was a child. As I've reiterated a thousand times children are precious to the galra, immeasurably so, and therefore to raise a single hand to a child is grave offence, but to not only burn them so severely that it scars, but make a public show of it?? That kind of cruelty is an outrage. If Zuko was wrong, he deserved to be corrected and educated (something he himself actively sought hence his attending the meeting in the first place!), not mutilated.

For another, there's the scar itself. Horrific as the circumstances surrounding its acquisition were, from a galra perspective Zuko's handling of the situation was befitting of the greatest of warriors. Imperial attitude towards scars are such that they are generally considered badges of honour: something to be revered and even reveled in. A scar is the mark of a battle survived, and in fact, the only instance in which a scar might be treated with disdain is if it were on one’s back, as this might imply either foolishness for having turned away from your enemy, or, worse yet, cowardice due to the bearer having tried to flee rather than fight. Zuko, however, despite his youth, despite his fear, despite not deserving it in the slightest,,, faced his father head on and accepted Imperial judgment. There are fully-fledged warriors ten times his age that would struggle to do the same, and that alone is worthy of the highest commendation.

While the galra would consider the Agni Kai itself a perfectly acceptable method of resolving an otherwise unsolvable dispute, the bare minimum one would expect would be each participant knowing who the other was and on exactly what grounds the challenge was set. So finally, even if Zuko were an adult who spoke out against a plan that his Emperor endorsed, he did so without knowing that his Emperor endorsed it: Ozai is at no point made this clear, we know from context that this was Zuko's first time in the war room (so he had no prior frame of reference for what was / wasn't appropriate), and upon learning that his father had taken offence he immediately //throws himself at his feet in sincere apology and pleads for mercy//... there were several steps that should have been taken before resorting to rite of combat, and Ozai disregarded each and every one in favour of making a malicious point. It wasn't behaviour befitting of any galra in a position of power, but least of all the Emperor.

Ultimately, the galra consider it the Emperor's duty (or, in this case, the Fire Lord's) to serve and protect the Empire and all its citizens; yes, sometimes this is going to come at a steep cost, and yes, sometimes the good of the many may indeed come at the cost of the few, but irrespective of whether Zuko's opinion at the war council was right or wrong, Ozai's reaction was entirely disproportionate. For all the galra are a people with a strong sense of loyalty to their Emperor/Empress, this is something that’s supposed to go both ways. the galra will remain loyal to their Monarch for so long as said Monarch is loyal to their people, and absolutely nothing about Ozai's conduct surrounding the Agni Kai indicated that this was the case.

Tldr; Ozai's a POS, thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#zuko is a GOOD!! BOY!! who DESERVED!! BETTER!! and the galra would adore him #Ao3 Little Blade #sa screams back #atla

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laikabu · 1 month

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re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

#laios isn’t even in my top 3 fav but i gotta throw this out to the void #dungeon meshi meta #laios touden #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #kabru sexuality is easy cuz that dude is capital B Bisexual but laios has layers to it i feel

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matan4il · 1 year

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Buddie 613 meta

We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~

When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~

You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~

But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~

Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.

In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~

Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~

Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible).

And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~

For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~

What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you so much for reading and for any reblog, like, comment or supportive tag! Also, HUGE thank you to @whosoldherout. On top of real life stuff, she makes her own amazing gifs AND helps make these posts so much better. She’s the one with the real superpowers!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #evanbuckleyedit #eddiediazedit #christopher diaz #wm #911edit #buddie gifs #buddieedit #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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adelheidvonschicksal · 11 days

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hiii!! how are you? god, it's my first time requesting and I'm super awkward but I've been kinda having this dark mc brain rot! what would the love and Deepspace boys do with a secret gambler mc who's just like yumeko jabami? that'd be so interesting! feel free to ignore this ask if that makes you uncomfortable and have a nice day!

🎲 LND Scenarios with Dark Gambler!MC

🎲 Synopsis: Love and Deepspace men dealing with their dark gambler partner's eccentrics.

🎲 Pairing: LND x GN!Reader

🎲 Content Warning: sexual undertones, mild humor, no pronouns/looks mentioned (Jabami is for the aesthetic), Zayne is the only one vibing, there's no mercy in kitty cards!

🎲 A/N: Thanks for letting me take a crack at your request. I never watched Kakeguri but I think I got the vibe! I did tone the behavior down a little to fit LND more but I think you'll be satisfied. Zayne's part turned into my favorite even though I had the hardest time thinking of a scene for him!

“Let me have a turn.”

Xavier shudders at the dark aura he senses behind him despite the sweet smile plastered on your face. It’s almost like seeing a demon reflecting in the glass of the claw machine but in the form of an angel. He knew it was a bad idea to come to the arcade. He was no good at the machine no matter how much he tried and the nearly empty bowl where his tokens once laid was the proof.

“It’s alright. I didn’t think I could get it anyway. I’m not really good at this game.”

You frown at him. “It’s not you, love. These games are designed to cheat people out their money. It's disgusting really.”

Xavier gulps at that word. Cheat. If there was one thing you hated in this world, it was unfairness. The crooked smile forming on your face forces him to return eye contact with the special edition bunny plush he’s failed to get time and time again. Somehow, he sees fear in its eyes.

“I’ll get it for you.” Your hand reaches into the coin bowl; each clink makes his throat tighten as you finally pull out one of the coins between your fingers. “That bunny will be coming home with us.”

Xavier knows there’s little he can do when you sound that determined. Luckily, you won the bunny in two attempts.

“Ta-da! A fluffy bunny for my fluffy bunny.”

A sense of relief washes over him when the round rabbit hits his hands. Maybe he was being overly paranoid. However, his relief is quickly buffed out by anxiety when he sees you place another coin in the machine. It’s only a few seconds before the chimes of the machine go off again. Then, you pass him another toy, a carrot this time.

“Every bunny needs a snack!” you coo, but your tone carries that familiar edge that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. “Now, whom shall we capture next?”

To Xavier, it sounds less like a question and more like a decree of war. “I think these two are more than enough for today."

“Xavier, this game stole forty dollars from you. I’m not going to let it get away with that,” you declare, proving it was just as he feared as your voice lowers. “Now, which one do you want, dear? Oh, I know, I'll just win them all for you! How does that sound?" you ask, but Xavier is eerily aware that it won’t matter what he says when you’re like this.

“Here we go!” you mewl as the claw begins to whir up.

Ignoring the shiver that climbs up his spine when your voice drips with the venom of ecstasy, there’s little Xavier can do but take another step back, buy another bowl of coins, and hold them for you as the role of a supportive boyfriend.

It’s an hour later when he finds himself surrounded by plushies, much more than he can hold, and the fear that you’re going to get kicked out the arcade any second.

“Cleaned out again!” you announce with a shrill breathy gasp, the giggle you give reminding him of the maniacal laughter Lemonette chortles out whenever the wanderer sprays lemon juice in his eyes. “Tell the employees we need another refill.”

“We don't have enough hands to carry all the ones you already won.”

“What?” Your focus finally breaks from the game and to the many toys scattered on the floor around him, overtaking his feet, then to the worried look on his face. “I went overboard again, didn’t I?”

Xavier sighs. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“How do you suggest I do that?” he asks with a shake of his head. “You’re impossible to stop.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. “I did get you your bunny though!”

“At the cost of the poor arcade owner’s precious sanity,” he reminds you but the smile on his face is less than scolding when he sees the guilty sulk you have and the lax of your shoulders. “Let’s find a donation center to drop these little guys off. We’ll count it as our good deed for the month.”

“Good idea! How about we surprise all the kids at the hospital?” you agree. Xavier chuckles. There’s the angel again.

“Pretty please, Rafayel!”

The painter rolls his eyes, scooting further away from you to find a different spot on the floor to sit as you crawl after him. Rafayel turns his head away and strokes his paintbrush down the center of his canvas.

“No. Now, go away. Shoo. Shoo, go paw at someone else,” he says, waving the wet paintbrush at you.

“But no one else will play with me,” you whine.

“I wonder why?”

You are terrifying when you play kitty cards. Unfortunately, he was once the only one foolish enough to play with you because he wasn’t aware of how you got when you gambled even when the winnings were only a few pieces of chocolate. He knows better now. Despite your cute precious face, you were evil incarnate when it came to games.

“Surely, you pity me my dear sweet, gorgeous boyfriend. Did I forget to mention talented?” You give him the puppy eyes to try to wear down his resolve; your hand glides over his bangs, lovingly pushing them from his face. As much as he loves trying to make you happy, this is one of the few things in the world that he refuses to listen to you about.

“As true as all of that may be, I prefer living thanks,” he says before switching brushes to another color. A splash of blue would be excellent.

“Is this about last time?” you ask him. “It was an accident.”

“You nearly broke my hand!”

“You were trying to swap the kitties!” you yell back. Rafayel was a no-good cheater when it came to playing games and not the least bit sorry about it. It’s not your fault that you grabbed his hand by reflex nor that he was so dramatic about it.

“So, the sentence is hand breaking? That's cruel and unusual punishment!” he says with a gasp.

"Is it wrong to take away your tool for cheating?"

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living? You might as well lay me out in the sun to dry.”

Sighing, you decide to agree with him. You suppose you could be a little competitive when it came to games. Besides, they say it’s easier to catch more flies with honey. “Look, I’m sorry, baby,” you apologize and smooth out a hand over his thigh. “How about I give you a super special prize if you win.”

Rafayel barely looks at you from the corner of his eyes that slowly drop to where your hand rests on his leg. You’re on your hands and knees next to him, perched up like a cat begging to be petted.

“I’m listening,” he says, continuing to mix his paints. Purring, you lean in and whisper in his ear the prizes you’re willing to trade for him to play one little round with you.

His heart races with each word. It’s suddenly becoming harder to keep the stroke of the brush straight when your hand starts to trail further and further up his thigh. “Well, when you put it that way—” and he almost gives in until he sees the corner of your lips curling up into a smirk. “Wait. No. I refuse.”

“Not even if—” and you whisper in his ear again. He swears the brush handle will splinter if he grips it any tighter. His face is glowing a light red by the time you pull away. He might be Lumerian but he’s still a man; it’s difficult to bury the memories of pleasure under the memories of his fingers squeezing in your hard grip the last time you caught him cheating. He manages, somehow.

“How easy do you think I am? I’m not open for business whenever you want, darling.” He manages to spat out, not exactly the best rejection but it’ll suffice.

You puff up your cheeks at him. “You’re the meanest boyfriend ever!”

“And you’re evil when a card gets in your hand,” he argues back. The last thing he sees is the red of your shirt as you pounce on him and blue paint spilling across the floor.

“You’re so nice, Zayne. You’re the only one who's brave enough to play against me.”

Zayne glances up from the stack of cards in his hands to catch your tongue glancing over your lips to wet them as you stare him down with dilated eyes. He expected you to get worked up but not quite this early into the game.

“I had the free time today.”

The real reason he schedules these regular games with you is to keep your strange habit under control, like providing a little bit of a drug to an addict; or in simpler terms, walking an overly energetic Husky so it won’t tear up the furniture. It beats the many times you ring him up at two in the morning, needing him to come rescue you out of a tough situation. He knows you’ll never learn your lesson with him always swooping in when needed, but he can’t stand the possibility of you getting hurt should he not come to your rescue every time you over bet your hand and need him to win back your money for you. The doctor never really expected to be a poker or kitty card expert at this age but alas.

“I’m guessing there’s at least one Kitty Plot in your hand, am I right?” you ask him; and he doesn’t understand how you sound more excited each time he obtains another assist card.

“And if I told you there was?”

The giggle you let out sounds much too vulgar for a simple game of kitty cards, but he’s used to this eccentricity of yours at this point. “Then that means I get to beat you even when you’re at your best!”

You slap down a Freeze card and Skip card. There’s not much he can do other than draw his assist card and ride out your next turn. In the next phase, you throw out another assist card, one that will allow you to restock your empty number stockpile and seal your victory.

“Any last words?” you ask him. He can see that you’re starting to twitch with the excitement that comes from besting him. It’s the most dramatic thing he’s seen, but he’d be a liar to say it wasn’t…satisfying…to watch your face fill with shock as he blocks your finishing move with a Meow This. Maybe you were rubbing off on him after all, he muses.

“You held on to that all this time?” you ask him, recalling the many chances he could’ve blocked your earlier plays. You were aware he was luring you into a trap by playing the slow game, but you thought you could get around it this time. With a dreamy sigh, you cup your cheek in your hand. “I should’ve known. Just careless.”

“Any last words?” he asks, mocking your earlier victory line.

“None I’m afraid. I’m completely at your mercy; helpless in the face of your onslaught,” you tell him, and he ignores the little tilt of seduction lacing your voice and the squirming of your thighs as he starts erasing every point you’ve earned.

Slowly, your points decrease one by one as he throws out assist after assist while you let out little whimpers and mutter compliments under your breath with each cup color change and point reducer he throws out.

You’re going to lose! Again! He’s incredible as always.

But you’re offered deliverance when instead of erasing the six points of your blue kitty the cup color changes to match it. You hear Zayne “tch” under his breath, and you can’t help but laugh when he finally has to give up and fill the last white kitty cup with a pathetic low-level kitten.

In the end, you only won by two points but that was all you needed.

“I won…I won!” you repeat, rocking back and forth as you hug yourself and toss your head back. “I finally beat you! You won’t believe how long I waited for this day! Now what should my prize be?” You fall back onto the floor, kicking your feet. “It’s so hard to decide. I honestly didn’t think this day would come! There are so many things I’ve dreamed of making you do for me!”

Zayne presses his lips into a thin line as he begins to collect the kittens from the cup. “Calm down. You’re drooling on the carpet,” he exaggerates, not that you're in the right mind to listen.

“I got it. I know just what I want,” you squeal, holding your finger in your mouth to muffle your laughs. Zayne tenses when you sit up, much like a vampire from a horror movie, and lock eyes with him; he doesn’t think he’s felt so targeted since his days in the military.

“Meow for me, Zayne,” you demand, and his face burns at the ridiculousness of your request.

“You—”

“Are you backing out? That’s poor sportsmanship especially considering I took every nasty medicine each time you won.”

Zayne shakes his head. “No. I was simply thinking that’s surprisingly tame for you.”

You lift your eyebrows curiously. “So, does that mean?”

Zayne leans in over the table. In this position, he can see how your face softens from that lust-filled haze that gambling always manages to place over you. He doesn’t know if you can actually get embarrassed, but you certainly look flustered as he locks eyes with you.

“Meow.”

“Oh,” you gasp, eyes wide. “T-That was absolutely wonderful,” you blurt out with a clasp of your hands. “Do it again.”

“It was a one-time deal,” Zayne rejects before straightening his back.

“I didn’t think you would do it. One more little meow for me?” you plead. “This was a special victory, and I didn’t get to enjoy my winnings properly.”

“If you want to hear it again, I’m afraid you’ll have to beat me a second time,” he answers bluntly.

“And if you win?”

“You do what I want.”

“Which is?”

Zayne smirks at you. “All I can tell you is that I’ll ask for much more than a meow.”

“You’re on! You’re on! You’re on! What better way to solidify my position as the best kitty card player than with a streak?”

“I take it we’re playing on Hell Mode then.”

“What do you mean? It’s always heaven playing against you, Zayne. You’re the only one who can give an actual challenge,” you sweetly coo, nearly a moan. “Unfortunately, your reign will officially be coming to an end. I’m going to beat you without luck; and when I do, I think I’ll make you meow and purr for my reward.”

“Hurry and restart the match then if you believe that.”

Zayne watches as you excitedly set the game back up. He supposes that this type of gambling is more fun than gambling with chocolates. At least until he sees your social media message the next morning.

Guess who finally toppled the old king and became the new Ruler of Kitty Cards? I won’t name them. No one asked. It’s not polite to be a sore loser, my adorable meowing subject.

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnd x reader #notsfw #adelssmut

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kennedy-brooke · 8 months

Text

Dress pt. 2

George Daniel x (Fem)Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with George Daniel for as long as you can remember, but your relationship has always suggested something more. The pining and waiting quickly becomes too much to handle, and you finally decide that something has to be done. A night out with your friends is the perfect excuse for you to wear the dress you bought, with the only intention of having him take it off.

Part 1

heavily based on the song dress by taylor swift

Word Count: 14.4k

a/n: hello again, lovely people - it's here!! The second half is all yours. i know it's much longer than part 1, but this is without a doubt my favourite part and im so excited for you all to read it. WARNING!!! there is heavy smut in this part!! 18+ MDI im not joking. I feel like i need to drown myself in holy water after this one - its complete and utter filth for 3.6k words and I have no idea where it came from. i hope you very thoroughly enjoy it!! mwah xxx

He is miserable.

Completely and utterly miserable.

George had come in with the rest of the band and made his way to the bar, making sure to sit in a spot with a clear view of the club’s entrance.

He’d hoped to catch you as soon as you walked in, so he made himself comfortable, ordered a drink, and pretended like he wasn’t watching the door.

But then this girl came along - he couldn’t remember her name if he tried - and sat next to him, fully blocking his once clear line of sight to the door you would be walking through any minute.

She had immediately sat down and started talking, laying the flirting on thick and trying to get his attention - it just hasn’t been working.

It isn’t her fault; she’s not awful to look at and he’s sure that she is probably a really nice girl - but she just isn’t you.

You, his best friend, his Darling, who he is absolutely completely in love with.

He’s felt this way for a while now, it’s not exactly anything new, but it’s been recently that George has actually come to terms with all of it.

He loves you. Loves your laugh and the way you don’t hesitate to quip back at Matty. Loves your smile and the way it lights up the room. He loves the way you play with the rings on his hands, which is the reason he started wearing them in the first place - though if you asked him he would wholeheartedly deny it.

George is in love and all he really wants is to see you. It’s been two very long months without your presence and it was during that time that he came to the conclusion that he had to do something. He has to tell you.

His feelings are inescapable, and at this point he isn’t even going to try pretending that he saw you as just a best friend.

The longing George felt over tour made him decide to fully fuck the consequences - he is going to tell you how he feels, because he has never felt this way about anyone before. And if, by some chance, he’s read the situation wrong and he gets burned? At least he was electrified.

He had wanted to be there to greet you when you got here, which is why he sat at the bar in the first place.

But this girl. She just showed up and will not leave.

He doesn’t want to be a dick and just leave her by herself, but she just keeps talking. She’s flirting, and he’s not showing any interest, yet she still keeps going. He’s not even attempting to listen to her right now, too busy trying to see around her head and catch a glimpse of the door, but she isn’t taking a single hint.

She keeps going on about the band, talking as if she’s everyone’s best mate and has known them for ages - even though George swears he’s never seen her before in his life.

It's in the middle of his internal monologue and declaration of love that she directs a question at him that he actually has to answer, effectively breaking him out of his head.

“Oh my god, do you remember?”

He blinks at her, “Remember what?”

She giggles, leaning forward and laying her hand on his forearm for the third time tonight.

“Silly- remember that time when Matty completely fell over and Adam rolled his eyes at his antics and Ross turned around to laugh with John - while you just sat there at your set looking all stoic?”

He sighs before dryly remarking, “Which time?”

At his response, which was obviously sarcastic and did little to hide his annoyance, she lets out a loud, witch-like cackle. She clutches her chest and laughs like it was the funniest comment in the world - it wasn’t.

George’s eyes go wide, watching in horror as she tries and fails to stop fake laughing. She leans forward as if she’s attempting to catch her breath, and reaches her hand out to grab onto his.

As soon as he catches on to what she’s going for, he moves both of his hands out of her reach - opting to tightly hold on to his glass instead. She, however, doesn’t take the hint and simply places her hand on his thigh.

George physically cringes and looks pointedly at her hand as he shifts his legs away from her.

Her eyes briefly flash with annoyance before she quickly covers it with a smile and reaches to take another sip of her drink.

George takes the moment of her distraction to try and see around her head, hoping to see you come in and have a valid reason to excuse himself. He genuinely doesn’t want to be rude - but she’s getting to be a bit much now.

As if she’s able to read George’s mind and has decided to amp it up even more, the girl reaches out again, for the fifth time, and flirtingly places her hand on George’s bicep… again.

George tenses his muscle immediately, unable to hide the physical reaction to her unwanted touch, but she seems to take it a different way.

She gasps, fucking full-on gasps, and squeezes his arm. “Oh my gosh, George, your muscles have gotten so big! You must be so strong-”

His eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

She squeezes his arm again. “You’ve just gotten so muscular, imagine what you could do with these arms.”

George swears that if she were to say one more thing, his eyes would pop out of his head. He huffs and subtly shakes her hand off - though he debates doing it and making it rudely obvious.

He looks around the room, looking to see if anyone else was witnessing this. Does anyone else hear her?

George drags his hand down his face before he looks around the room again, specifically looking for any hidden cameras and waiting for Matty to jump out laughing. This has to be a prank. There’s no way any of this is real. Absolutely not.

He’s not sure where the others are- they had all gone their separate ways after arriving. Adam had left to go find Carly, Ross to find Waughy, and hell if anyone knew where Matty disappeared off to - likely to find someone to irritate with his presence (someone save that poor person’s soul).

Regardless, George needs an escape, he’s honestly not sure that he can take anymore of whatever this is.

Pulling out his phone, George unlocks it and goes to his messages and hovering his finger over your name. He could text you and see if you were here yet, but he doesn’t want to push you or rush you on a fun night out.

He shakes his head, clicking on Matty’s name instead. Matty almost always has his phone on him, he’s more likely to answer than the other lads.

Before he has a chance to type anything out, he’s interrupted.

“You lot are touring the UK soon, right?”

George blinks for a moment before nodding and looking down at his phone, “Huh? Oh, right - yeah we are.”

“Wow, touring for that long must be exhausting.” She rests her head on her palm, tilting her head and sighing.

He has a feeling he knows where this is going, and he really doesn’t want to stay for it - so he quickly types out a text to his mate.

Help

Mate seriously

Get me a glass of milk

He pauses for a moment before adding a short:

Asap

It seems easier to just go along with whatever she’s saying at this point. Sighing, George responds with a simple, “It can be tiring sure.”

“God, and I bet it just gets so lonely being gone for months on end like that.”

George looks up and blinks at her - what? - before immediately going to message Matty again, not bothering to respond to her this time.

Milk me, seriously

Help

Now

She pauses as if she’s waiting for a response and when she realizes that he doesn’t plan on commenting, she continues on. “It must be hard settling down when you’re gone like that.”

He quickly looks around the bar, and for a moment he thinks he sees Matty’s curly mop of hair on the opposite side of the club - but he blinks and it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. George sighs. There’s no way she’s about to suggest what he thinks she is - right?

“And I’m sure it’s just such a hassle finding normal groupies to pick up in order to have a good time.”

Wow. Okay, so she definitely is. He glances at his phone again - no response. That dickhead - what in the world could he be doing that’s so important right now. He sends another three messages.

Please

At this point come throw a glass of milk on me

So she will fucking fuck the fuck o f f

George is staring holes into his phone, not daring to look up at her. The awkward silence is growing, and just when he thinks that she might be done, her voice grabs his attention again.

“Don’t think you’d turn down the company would you?”

He balks at her words. In what world- in what world has he done anything that has even remotely suggested that he wants to bring her on tour with him? That sounds like the worst possible outcome of this situation and he’d be damned if it ended that way.

Matty I’m spamming you for a reason

I know you’re laughing

Stop it

“I could come along, make sure you don’t get lonely.”

There’s no way George is even deigning to respond to that. He doesn’t hesitate to continue firing off messages to Matty left and right.

Can you actually be a good mate for once please

He tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. In all honesty, he would give anything for it to open up and swallow him whole right now. Of course this happens to him, it’s just his luck. This is not how he wanted tonight to go.

“Gosh, and it’s been right cold weather lately…”

George doesn’t look at her, but he barely sees her try to move closer out of the corner of his eye and he immediately moves out of the way. He needs her to stop.

Matty

Matt

MATTHEW

You fuckhead why don’t you have your phone on you

WHY is he NOT ANSWERING.

THIS IS WHY HANN IS BETTER THAN YOU.

It feels like he’s been here for months, years even. She just keeps going, and just when he thinks she might be done -

“I mean, we could wrap up tight together- keep each other warm…” Trailing off, she tilts her head and smiles what she probably thinks is a seductive smile.

She has to be kidding. Is his lack of response not enough? George feels like he might explode if someone doesn’t help him as soon as possible. WHERE IS MATTY.

I need you to

HELPMENOW

He’s desperate, he’s begging, and now he is pissed the fuck off. He angrily types out one more message and aggressively hits send before he slams his phone down.

cunt.

“I can think of a few other ways I could help keep you warm.”

George’s jaw drops. He’s not sure why she’s being so bold, but he is definitely not a fan and it’s getting old now. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s even responded to her and he sure as hell isn’t going to start now.

He blankly stares at her, praying she gets the message and leaves. But she simply looks back at him, smiling and waiting for him to comment, scoff, huff, anything. He doesn’t, and the silence simply grows.

The awkward silence is broken by George’s phone buzzing, causing him to quickly scramble to grab it from its place facedown on the bar.

He unlocks his phone, only to be greeted by three messages from none other than Matty Healy himself.

Calm down mate lol

Help is on the way

You’ll thank me later xx

The fuck is that supposed to mean?

George stares at his phone for a moment before quickly looking around. Is this some joke? Does he think he’s funny? Because George is not laughing. At. All.

“I mean…” And just like that his irritation grows. Is she not done? The girl keeps pushing, not realizing that this may be George’s final straw. “...we would probably be sharing your bunk by the end of the tour, anyways.”

She shrugs, and George can feel his eye start to twitch. That’s it. He’s ending this now, forget about being a gentleman. He should have stopped whatever this was as soon as she sat down.

George opens his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, but he’s cut off by the feeling of a hand sliding across his shoulder to drape around his neck and the weight of a body being pressed into his side.

“I think he’s got that bit covered, thank you though.”

George stops breathing at the sound of the all too familiar voice, and looks up to be met with your side profile and a clear view of the tight-lipped smile you are currently sporting.

At the sight of you, George’s eyes light up and his entire demeanor changes. He lets out a sigh of relief, sagging against your side and giving you the biggest smile. “Hello, Darling”

The girl across from you bristles at the pet name, while you practically melt in place. God, did you miss him.

“Heya, G.” You lock eyes with him and you both get lost simply taking each other in - it’s been way too long.

Your small moment, however, is broken by the girl scoffing and crossing her arms. “I’m sorry, and who are you, exactly?”

There is zero hesitation as you respond. “His girlfriend.”

You bat your eyelashes and give the girl the widest, most passive aggressive smile you can manage.

George raises his eyebrows at your words and smirks to himself before wrapping his arm around your back and quickly tugging you into his lap by the waist. Your eyes go wide for a moment in shock before you manage to gather yourself and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Girlfriend, huh?” He leans in, whispering in your ear.

Your face heats up. You didn’t have a plan when you came over here - you were completely winging it and the title had slipped out of your mouth without much thought.

George however, seems unphased - if anything he seems quite content with your method of helping and is fully prepared to play into it. He nudges his nose at the side of your face, completely ignoring the presence of the girl seated next to the two of you.

To sell the idea that you are actually his girlfriend, you turn your head so that your nose meets his in an eskimo kiss - but you don’t go as far as actually kissing him on the mouth.

He brings the arm that’s not resting around your back over and places his hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing and giving you a dopey smile.

The girl makes an angry sound somewhere between a scoff and a whine, before standing up and storming her way back to the table full of her friends - most likely to rage about the dickhead who wasted her time and his bitch of a girlfriend.

You laugh at her retreating form, throwing your head back before resting it against George’s.

He wraps both arms around you, giving you an all-consuming hug that you had been desperately craving. “God, I missed you so much.”

You can’t help but smile at his words. “Missed you too, G. How’ve you been?”

George shakes his head. There’s no way that you’ve missed him half as much as he’s missed you. “I’ve been alright, yeah. Much better now that you’re here.”

“Well aren’t you just the flatterer tonight? C’mon, let’s get you over to the others.”

You stand up, bringing George with you and begin the walk across the club to your group’s table.

George takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your lower back again and pull you into his side, holding you tightly against him.

You let out a short laugh at his actions before looking up at him. “What are you doing, G?”

“I’m holding my girlfriend, is that a problem?” Your eyes widen, which George takes immediate note of and causes a smirk to dance its way across his face.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of the girl from before who’s currently glaring daggers into the back of your head. You can’t help but smirk at her reaction and it’s at that moment you decide to go all out with your little stunt.

You turn back to look at George, where the smirks are still present on both of your faces. “Nope, not a problem at all - but you should at least do it right.”

George’s smirk falls, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at your words as you reach down to cover his hand that’s placed on your waist with your own. Grabbing his hand, you slowly drag it down your waist and over your hip before moving it behind you and placing it firmly on your ass.

His eyebrows shoot up in suprise at your actions, “Of course- right, can’t be doing it wrong now can I?” But you can clearly see the barely masked mischief and excitement in his eyes as he gives your ass a squeeze.

You let out a squeak and take your hand off of his, leaning further into George’s side. He looks down and smiles at the sight as you keep walking. “How’d you know I needed help, anyway?”

“A little rat told me you needed saving.”

George rolls his eyes, “Yeah, well that rat will be getting an earful later. I was desperate and in a right panic when he wouldn’t respond.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh at that, “Oh, I know. I’d say this is better than getting a glass of milk thrown on you though, wouldn’t you.”

He huffs and pulls you further into him, “Definitely better than a glass of milk.”

Reaching over, you poke at his side and joke, “So, is Hann better than me? Is he still your favourite?”

You give him a wide, cheeky smile and you fully expect his response to be in the form of a witty or sarcastic remark - but you’re completely taken aback as he makes eye contact with you and simply says, “You’re always my favourite.”

Woah. You weren’t expecting that - but his eyes show the most genuine sincerity mixed with a look you can’t quite decipher, and you can tell he means it.

His words fluster you, and you can feel the heat crawling up your neck, but luckily you both arrive at your table before he has a chance to notice.

“Well, well, well - look who decided to join us.”

The two of you look up at the sound of your friend’s voice and you huff out a laugh, knowing what’s about to come next.

“Yeah, no thanks to your rat ass. Answer your phone next time you dickhead.” George glares at Matty and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under.

Matty, however, is completely unphased. He smirks as his eyes dart between you and George before stopping and zeroing in on the placement of George’s hand that has yet to move since you arrived.

“Seems like my solution worked just fine.” Matty looks over at you and sends you a quick wink before looking back at George.

“Oh piss off with that-” George starts, feeling slightly less confident than he had felt before when it was just the two of you, but you cut him off.

“I’d say I did a fine job as your knight in shining armor, wouldn’t you G?” You send a glare (that lacks any heat) towards Matty before looking up at George and smiling.

George looks down at you, unable to stop the smile that appears on his face, and pulls you to lean further into him. “I guess you did alright-”

You cut him off by scoffing and pushing at his chest and away from him, to which George laughs and brings both arms to wrap around you. “I’m kidding, Darling. I’m kidding. You did a wonderful job.”

You huff at him and rest your head on his, letting out a soft laugh. George chuckles at your behavior and presses a kiss to the top of your head before he moves you both to go sit down.

By now, the pair of you have committed to the bit of acting like a couple, if only for the sake of convincing the girl from earlier - who happens to still be watching you both like a hawk. So after sitting down with your friends, you lean into George’s side and look up at him.

You’re met with his eyes, and you have a silent conversation. We’ve already come this far, we might as well have fun with it.

And for the rest of the night, you both put on your best performance at being in love - though neither of you know it takes absolutely no effort and is much easier than the alternative of pretending you aren’t.

As the night progresses, you grow more handsy with each other - unable to stop yourselves.

It starts with George holding your hand while you are both sitting, rubbing his thumb soothingly over your knuckles. You’re locked in a conversation with Ross when George lifts your joined hands to his mouth, and softly kisses along your knuckles before bringing your hands back down and into his lap.

A little while later, he has one arm resting around your shoulders and is softly playing with your hair, while the other hand is firmly placed in the crease of your leg where your thigh and hip meet.

You reach down, grasping his hand in yours, and begin messing with the rings on his fingers. He looks over and smiles seeing your actions, having missed the habit of yours.

At one point, you’re basically sitting on top of George with how closely you are sat next to him.

Throughout the night, you start increasing the physical affection from the level of innocent touches to that of kissing one another anywhere possible; but never on the mouth.

George places kisses along your jaw and up to your ear, where he feels your breath hitch as he whispers to you.

You turn towards him, bringing your hand up to his chest and subtly unbuttoning an extra button on his shirt. No one seems aware of your actions, no one except for George himself, and you feel him stop breathing as you lean forward and place a kiss on each collarbone.

Eventually, the two of you grow tired of sitting down. You stand facing the table, tugging George up to stand behind you. Reaching towards him, you grab his hands and pull him to wrap his arms around you. More than happy to comply, George holds you tightly to him as you lean back into his chest and he affectionately nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, making you let out a soft giggle before returning to the group’s conversation.

No one in the group dares to question your sudden open affection - not even Matty. They’re too scared to interrupt your moment, afraid that if they mention it or point it out, you’ll both stop and revert back to the way things were before tour.

So they stay quiet, observing the way you two look so perfect together, noting that you have yet to properly kiss, and praying that one of you grows a pair and finally makes a move.

When the opening your favourite song to dance to starts playing, you don’t hesitate to drag George to the dancefloor.

You glance over at George, smiling wide as the bass begins to reverberate through your body and you start moving. You sway your hips to the beat, throwing your hands into the air and dancing like there’s no one else around.

While you start sensually dancing to the music, George jumps at the opportunity to simply take in the sight of you.

You are absolutely breathtaking - George swears he’s never seen anything so beautiful. The way the lighting falls on your face, casting a halo around you, paired with the way your hips move side to side makes him feel weak at the knees.

And that dress- God, that dress. It was fucking gorgeous on you. George immediately thanks the universe for the existence of such a stunning piece of clothing.

He admires the way it highlights your features perfectly, dipping and running over each and every one of your curves in the most alluring way. With your back to him, he’s able to take in the criss-crossed lacing of the back of your dress, following the strings’ pattern to the delicate tie lying beneath the back of your neck.

How easy it would be to tug at the string, to unlace the dress and let it fall to the floor so he could take you in without the covering black material.

You turn around, eyes finding his and you slowly make your way over to stand directly in front of him. With the new position, George ogles the way the dress’s neckline dips low, showcasing your breasts with its rim of gold.

You immediately take note of his stare, basking in his attention and the obvious lust dancing in his eyes. Sliding your hands up his chest, you bring them to wrap around his neck and pull yourself closer to his body.

George’s hands quickly fly to your hips, moving along as they slowly start swaying to the beat again. He watches the material move with your body, the cuts in the thigh of the dress allowing you full motion. Your thigh flashes through the gap in the material and George closes his eyes, slowly swallowing.

The dress might be stunning, but George is certain that it would look even better lying on the floor - his floor, to be exact.

You turn around in his hold so that your back is to his chest, and George firmly grabs your hips and pulls your body flush to his. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as your hips move in sync.

Dancing, you feel a surge of confidence - whether it’s from the rush of your song playing or from the pulse of need that’s coursing through your body as a result of George’s stare, you aren’t sure. Regardless, you take that feeling and press your hips backwards, grinding against George’s front.

With your head by his neck, you feel his breath hitch and hear his light groan at the feel of your ass pressed into his now obvious erection. His grip on your waist tightens and he cant help it as his hips involuntarily buck into yours.

He leans down to your ear, so close that you can feel his breath as he whispers, “Careful, Darling.”

It sends a shiver down your spine and you’re unable to stop yourself as you smirk and push backwards again, pulling a soft grunt from his mouth before you move your body off of him completely.

Smirking you turn around to face him, still dancing and watching his face as you move in and place open-mouthed kisses along the side of his neck. You stretch your neck upwards, reaching his ear and pushing yourself that last bit closer so that you can nip the bottom of his earlobe.

As the song comes to an end, you lean in and let out a breathy whisper of “Or what?” before you pull away and slowly begin walking backwards to your table.

You send a wink George’s way and turn around completely, leaving George standing in the middle of the dancefloor staring after you in shock.

Oh, he is so fucked.

After being frozen in place for a moment, stuck watching the way your hips look as you walk away, George snaps out of it and quickly follows your retreating figure.

You get to the table first, not daring to look back after the stunt you just pulled. It’s only a minute later that an arm wraps around the front of your waist and pulls you backwards into a firm chest.

You don’t have to turn around to know that it’s George - of course you know it’s him.

There is no hesitation as you grab both of his arms and wrap them tightly around you, resting back into his hold with your hands still on his. George looks down at you, smiling softly before leaning forward and resting his chin on your head - savouring the feeling of you in his arms.

It’s at this time that you both happen to look up and see the girl from earlier look away from the pair of you embracing - where she must have been watching you since the dancefloor - and watch as she angrily gathers her things before storming out of the club, leaving her friends looking after her in confusion.

You and George stare at the door for a moment longer before looking at each other and bursting into laughter. It seems like your plan worked better than you originally expected. The only problem is - now your fun is over.

She’s finally left and George doesn’t have to worry about her catching him in another painful conversation again, meaning you no longer have to play pretend at being his girlfriend. You can go back to normal now - except you really don’t want to.

Despite your reluctance, you know that you can’t stay this way forever. So you begin to move out of his hold, trying to get away before he decides to move himself - you aren’t sure that you could handle that rejection anymore.

You work your way out of his arms, and go to step away when George grabs your wrist. “Hey, no - stop. Where are you going?”

He furrows his eyebrows as he feels you freeze before turning around to meet his stare. Were you not having a good time? He knows that the girl left already, but he honestly thought you had been enjoying yourself as much as he was. He doesn’t want to stop.

“G, she’s gone and left now, you don’t have to do that anymore.” You try your best to keep an even, lighthearted tone, but your voice wavers and shows a sliver of the disappointment that you currently are feeling.

He sees it though, he always does, and that’s why he knows that it’s okay to keep this going. You want it too.

“So? Come back here.” George sits down and tugs you to him by your wrist, pulling you to sit directly into his lap before he leans down and speaks into your ear. “Doesn’t mean we have to stop.”

Your breath hitches at his words, but you make no move to stand up. Instead you sink further into his hold, resting your head against the side of his. George swears that he’s never smiled this much in his life as he leans his head fully into yours before turning it and placing kisses along your jaw and up the side of your face.

You both stop holding back after that.

Where you had been engaging in moderate displays of affection while you had been “pretending,” you are now both going full out.

You’re constantly touching each other in some way - on the leg, on the arm, around the waist, with your sides completely pressed against each other, with you placed unmoving from George’s lap.

You’ve also begun kissing - not on the mouth, no matter how badly you both want it to happen - but anywhere else that the two of you can reach. It’s not overwhelmingly disgusting or obvious kissing, but it is definitely there.

The only place, other than the mouth, that George has yet to kiss you is your neck, instead opting to direct his mouth around your face, jaw, and hands. You, however, aren’t neglecting his neck in the slightest - in fact, it’s likely that he will have a mark or two or three (or more) by the end of the night if you keep it up.

The pair of you keep getting more handsy as the night progresses, which has led you to where you are now, sitting directly next to George.

You had both stood up to stretch your legs a while ago, and had since sat back down in your own respective seats rather than sitting on top of one another. As soon as you sat down, George’s hand found your thigh.

It was perfectly normal, especially for tonight, so you thought nothing of it. You simply watch him as he starts talking to Ross, unashamedly admiring his side profile.

You lean forward to place your elbow on the table and then rest your head in your palm, but the movement on your thigh causes you to immediately sit up straight and goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

George had begun running his fingertips back and forth along the outside of your thigh, slowly dragging them side to side and running them up and down the length of your thigh.

You are completely transfixed by the movement, your entire body heating up at his touch and it only seems to be growing worse by the second. You watch as he switches from using just his fingertips to placing the entirety of his hand on your thigh.

He starts moving his hand along the side of your thigh, now rubbing his large hand back and forth and sending a shiver down your spine at the feeling.

You look up, only to find him paying you absolutely no attention. He’s still completely invested in his conversation with Ross. You’re not even sure that he’s aware of what he’s doing.

It’s not until his hand moves up and over the top of your thigh, squeezing once before he begins running his hand along the top and inside of your thigh, that your stomach starts to flutter and a hot surge of need pulses through your body.

It’s not scandalous - he’s not making any move to reach under the hem of your dress, hell, he’s not even looking at you - but, god if it wasn’t doing something to you right now. If he doesn’t stop soon you’re going to completely short circuit.

Leaning over, you place three kisses up George’s neck before you pull away and go to stand up. You are going to need a drink if he keeps this up, and you haven’t had a chance to talk to Matty after you left to go save George.

George watches you as you head to the bar and grab another drink before you walk back to the table and stand next to where Matty is sitting with Adam. Missing your presence, George excuses himself and makes his way over to you.

He comes up behind you with every intention of attaching his lips to your neck for what he realizes is the first time tonight, and it’s as he leans down that he sees it.

He’s not sure how he missed it in the first place - the only reasoning he can think of being that he was too entranced by every other part of you to notice the familiar gold chain hanging around your neck.

But there it was, laying nicely around your neck and matching your dress perfectly. It stuns him, completely freezes him in place.

He vividly remembers leaving it for you that night. You had mentioned the necklace more than once, both while sober(ish) and while drunk - and he selfishly had wanted to leave you with something to remember him by, in hopes that he could stand a chance once he got back. So he left it for you to find when you woke up the next morning.

But never in a million years did he think you would genuinely keep it, let alone wear it out tonight.

George can’t help the urge that comes over him as he reaches out. He grabs the back of your neck and spins you around to face him, paying no attention to the fact that there are other people around and that he’s interrupted your conversation with Matty.

The action surprises you, and you let out a small gasp. “G, what-”

“Is this my necklace?” George slides his hand from the back of your neck and slowly runs his fingers down along the chain before taking it in his fingers.

You freeze for a moment, not expecting the question and you panic for a second. “Yeah - yes. It is.”

And then you wait, not knowing how he might react and unable to read his face to figure it out. George simply stares at you, a look in his eye that you actively choose not to read into as he looks at you - all of you. You are so beautiful.

He pulls on the necklace and brings your face closer to his in the process, similar to the way you had done it on that night two months ago. His eyes bounce back and forth between yours before glancing down at your lips. “You were right, Darling.”

Your chest feels tight looking into his eyes. You break away and look down at his lips and breathe out a soft, “About what?”

He looks at your lips for a moment longer and lifts his eyes to look directly into yours. “It does look better on you.”

And before you have a chance to respond, he tugs on the necklace again - closing the distance between your faces and crashing your lips into his.

It’s not soft, but it isn’t unbearably rough either. It’s passionate and all consuming, and neither of you can believe that you’ve waited this long to do it.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, thudding so violently that you swear it might burst out of your chest all together. The kiss starts slow, your lips moving in sync; but as he drags his tongue along your bottom lip, all gentleness is thrown to the wind.

His tongue slips past your lips, and your hands immediately move up to the back of his head, pulling his face impossibly closer to your own.

The hand holding the necklace shifts up to lay securely around your throat, and George's other hand slips around your waist to pull your hips against his. His grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, causing you to let out a whine and tighten your grip on his head.

The kiss continues on, all teeth and lips and tongue, trying to devour each other and make up for lost time.

Somewhere in the background you can hear your friends whooping and hollering - Matty being the loudest, shouting "Get a fucking room" with a wide smile on his face while everyone else whistles and cheers

It's only the need to breathe that forces you two apart, gasping for air and resting your forehead on his.

You let out a breathy laugh and look up as you trail slow kisses from the point of his jaw to the corner of his mouth, where you lightly nip at his bottom lip before catching both his lips in yours for another kiss.

His hand on your throat tightens again before he drags his hand down your body and slides both hands over your ass, where he pulls you in and slightly grinds into you.

You gasp into his mouth, causing him to smirk before he takes control of the kiss again. He slips his tongue into your mouth and groans as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

All you can think of is him. His lips. His hands. His face. His body. Nothing but him. Just George.

All he can think of is you. Your eyes. Your mouth. Your hips. Your neck. Only you. Just Y/n.

It’s not until Adam clears his throat, catching both of your attention, that you break apart again.

“As much as I hate to be the one to break it up, I feel the need to remind you that we are in a public place - and I dont know about everyone else, but I’d rather not watch you fuck on the table.”

The group bursts into a round of laughter as they watch you hide your face in George’s neck, feeling his chest move as you both laugh along with everyone else.

Matty, being the ass that he is, can’t help himself as he gives his own input. “I don’t know Hann, it could be fun.”

It sends the group into another round of boisterous laughter, which only grows as George lets out a quick, “Fuck off Matty.”

You keep laughing to yourself as you push your face further into George’s neck, making absolutely sure that no one is paying attention to you and that no one is able to see your face. Once you’re sure that the coast is clear, you boldly lick a stripe up George’s neck until you reach the bottom of his ear.

You feel his breath hitch as you whisper his name. “Hey, George?”

“Hmm? Yes, Darling?” He turns his head to look at you.

“I’m getting tired.” You pull away from his body to look up at him, and watch as his face scrunches slightly in confusion.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you reach forward and grab hold of his belt, using it to softly pull him into you so that your faces are back to being only centimetres apart. You lean forward and make sure to look him directly in the eyes as you speak the words into his mouth, “I think you should take me home.”

George’s demeanor shifts and you watch as his eyes darken a bit before he’s spinning you around and moving you away from the table and across the club. “Right, yeah - yes. Let’s go. Home. Right now.”

He doesn’t spare a glance or a goodbye to your group, but you swear you hear Matty call out, “Don’t forget to wrap it!” before George is speed walking to the exit and practically shoving you through the door in his hurry to get you home and out of that damn dress.

You rush to the corner, where George calls over a taxi and helps you get in, quickly following behind you. He slides over to the middle seat and leans forward, giving the driver his address before he leans back into the seat and places his hand on your thigh. You won’t be doing anything in the taxi, you don’t want to make the driver uncomfortable, but the both of you are beyond anxious to get home.

The tension has been building for far too long. All of the silence and patience, the pining and desperately waiting - it’s all been leading up to tonight.

• • •

The taxi ride back to George’s flat flew by and before you know it, the both of you are out of the vehicle and on each other, kissing like your lives depended on it.

You hurry your way to the door of his flat, not breaking apart until George has to fish his keys out of his pocket.

He pulls them out and fumbles through his different keys, trying to find the one to his flat - but he’s having a hard time. His breathing catches as you wrap your arms around his waist from behind him and begin to place kisses along his clothed back. God - where is that fucking key.

Finally, he finds it and wastes no time in unlocking the door and swinging it wide open. George moves to the side so that you can walk past him as he goes to remove the key.

You smile at him, unwrapping your arms from around his body, and you move to go inside. You barely have one foot past the door’s threshold when George comes directly behind you, closing the door and ushering you into the room.

Before you can blink, George is in front of you. His mouth is hot on yours as he slams your bodies back into the closed door, pinning your arms above your head with one hand while the other travels down your side to your waist, pulling your body against his.

He groans into your mouth as you buck your hips forward, grinding down on the thigh he’s placed between your legs.

His body presses further against yours as the hand holding your arms releases its hold. He keeps his mouth on yours as he slowly drags his hand down your arm and moves it along your shoulders before settling it snugly around your neck.

George lightly squeezes his hand around your throat and uses his other arm to pull your lower body further into him, causing you to let out a drawn out whine into his mouth.

Bringing your hands down, you cup them around his jaw and hold his face to yours as you kiss him again before pulling away, completely out of breath.

George doesn’t stop though, instead he begins kissing along your jaw and works his way down your neck, making your breathing stutter.

“George-” You breathe out, trying to get his attention.

He doesn’t stop his actions, simply letting out a rough “Mmm,” against your neck.

You need him to listen to you though, so you softly pull at his head so that he can see your face. “George, wait.”

He stops immediately this time, bringing his hand up from your neck to cup your jaw, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “What is it, Darling?”

“If we do this- it changes things.” You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but he doesn’t miss a beat.

He leans down and presses a soft, slow kiss on your lips. “I know.”

You release a breathy sigh as he moves his mouth down and to the other side of your neck. “I don’t want to be your best friend, I don’t want you like that.”

“I know.”

And with that you push away from the wall and into him, your lips colliding as George starts walking backwards to his bedroom. He pulls you with him, leaving no space between your bodies and refusing to break away from you. You bump into furniture and walls, stumbling down the hall and into his room, where he finally breaks away from you.

He pulls back and looks at you, taking in the way your hair is disheveled from his hands, the way your lips are swollen and your eyes are glazed over in lust - both of which he’s sure that he mirrors perfectly.

He can’t help himself as he goes back in for another kiss, speaking directly into your mouth. “God, you are so gorgeous.”

George gives you no chance to respond before he’s on you again. “And this dress - so fucking stunning darling.”

Your breath catches as he moves to the side of your face and nips at the bottom of your ear. Your words come out far too airy, “I bought it for you.”

George smirks, “Yeah? Wanted to look all pretty for me, Darling?”

“Yeah- yes.” You breathe out. “Only bought it so you could take it off.”

“Is that right, baby?” Your knees go weak at the pet name. “I should get to it then, yeah? Say thank you for all your hard work.”

George moves in, face coming so close to yours that if you were to move forward your lips would touch, and runs a finger along the necklace hanging around your neck before reaching behind you. He slowly pulls the string behind your neck, undoing the tie holding up your dress.

He unlaces the back of your dress, holding your eyes as he does, before he leans back so that he can see your body properly.

“You were so good to me tonight, Darling- saving me and getting all dressed up.” George moves his hand to the neck of your dress and looks up at you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes- please.”

Not needed anything more from you, George grabs the top of your dress and begins slowly dragging it downwards - intently taking in every new inch of skin that is exposed to him.

As the material passes over your breasts, he pauses and visibly swallows, looking up to make eye contact with you as he leans forward and attaches his mouth to your left nipple. You gasp, placing your hand on his head as he kisses at your chest.

It doesn’t take long for him to resume pulling your dress down, relishing in the way it slides down your body and over your curves. He holds his breath as he moves the material past your hips, watching the way the black fabric shows slight resistance before falling completely to the floor and pooling at your ankles, leaving you in only your lacy underwear.

He stares, frozen in place for far too long. George’s lack of movement, or breathing for that matter, causes you to panic - feeling self conscious with the way his eyes are glued to you.

You bring your hands up, trying to hide yourself from his view; but his hands shoot out immediately to grab at your wrists and hold them away from your body.

“No.” His eyes sweep your body once more before he grabs your waist and starts walking you backwards to the bed, leaving your dress in the middle of the room.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty.” The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you stop moving, looking up at George before reaching over and tugging at his shirt.

“You have too many clothes on.” He smirks at your insistence before his hands find the hem of his shirt and he pulls it over his head in one swift motion.

“Better?” George looks down at you, raising an eyebrow at you.

You stare at him, ogling his chest. Sure, you’ve seen him shirtless before, but this is different. He’s shirtless for you. You smile up at him, “Much.”

He places his hands on your hips, not even trying to hide the way he looks at your chest. “You know, I really do think some thanks are in order.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Oh, yes - you were so perfect for me tonight, Darling. I want to make you feel good.” George’s hands begin to slowly run up and down your sides, trailing his fingers along your form and causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. “You gonna let me make you feel good? Gonna let me see you?”

He leans forward, running his nose along your jaw. “Want to have you shaking for me.” He brings his right hand back up to your throat, lightly wrapping it around your throat as he uses his thumb to tilt your jaw upwards - urging you to look at him.

You let out a soft sound at the action, your underwear growing wetter by the second.

With his hand on your throat, he feels as you audibly swallow, resulting in the wide smirk that makes its way across his face. “Oh Darling, I’m going to make you feel so good. Nobody will ever compare.”

George uses the thumb that is still placed under your chin to reach up and pull down on your bottom lip, moving his face closer to yours and stopping just before your lips meet.

You reach out, slipping your fingers into the waistband of his pants before tugging his hips completely against yours. “I’m hearing a lot of talk G, maybe you should put your money where your mouth is.”

Your hands are shaking from holding back from him - you can’t take the anticipation anymore.

George simply smirks at you before grabbing behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground and throwing you back down onto the bed. You slide your way up the bed, propping yourself against the pillows and watching as George removes his belt and nothing more.

Slowly, he makes his way up the bed, stopping as his head meets your stomach. He places kisses traveling from one hip to the other, right above the waistband of your underwear, and smiles as he feels your stomach quiver at the touch.

He runs his hands along the outside of your thighs before bringing them up to the top of your underwear and slipping his fingers into the waistband. George glances up at you, waiting for your nod of approval before he drags the lacy material down your legs and throws them somewhere into his room.

Coming back to your body, he lifts your legs onto his shoulders and begins placing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your right leg, starting at your ankle and making his way up to where you want him the most. When he reaches the top of your thigh, he switches legs, repeating the motions and making his way up your left leg.

This time, when he reaches the top of your leg, he grabs onto the insides of your knees and pulls them apart, exposing your sopping cunt to him.

At the sight, George lets out a loud groan, bringing a finger up to run through your folds. He doesn’t even notice as he mumbles out, “Such a pretty pussy.”

You let out a whine, “George, please.”

The sound of your voice is all that it takes for him to rush into action, finally caving in and licking a stripe directly between your folds, catching your clit and making you let out a loud gasp as you throw your head back into the pillows.

George wastes no time, diving into your cunt and eating it like a man starved. He slowly flicks his tongue up and down your pussy, before directing his attention to your clit - feeding off of the sounds coming from your mouth. His tongue slowly circles the bud before placing just the right amount of pressure in the perfect spot, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

The moan you let out is pornographic and you can’t stop your hips as they grind into his face. He never lets up, placing one hand on your hips to hold them in place. “Tastes so good baby,” he speaks directly into your cunt, slowing the movement of his tongue only so that he can bring his other hand up to meet his mouth.

With no warning, George slips a finger into you. “Oh my god-” Your words are cut off by your moan as he slowly starts thrusting his finger in and out of you, relishing in the sounds coming from your mouth.

He looks up and watches your face contort as he adds another finger, picking up his pace and attaching his lips back to your swollen clit. George has never been this turned on in his life, and is unable to stop himself from grinding down into the bed as he laps at your cunt.

You can feel the tension building within you, like a string pulled taught that is about to snap, and you cry out as you feel George curl his fingers inside of you, brushing against the perfect spot.

He picks up his pace and repeats the motion over and over again, thrusting his fingers in and out and sucking harshly at your clit. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. Any and all thoughts in your head completely vanish as you chance a glance between your legs and lock eyes with George.

You can feel his smirk, your mouth falling open as you watch him completely devour your cunt. “George- oh fuck-” Your breathing stutters as you catch sight of him rutting against the mattress as he eats you out and you release a drawn out moan, hands flying down to grab at his head.

He groans against you, the vibrations adding to the stimulation, and without any warning the tension building in your stomach snaps and you are cumming on his face. Your back arches off the bed, thighs clenching tightly around George’s head, and in that moment George swears that he could die a happy death between your thighs.

His fingers and mouth continue their movements, gradually slowing down and working you through your high; not stopping until you begin whining and push his head away.

Pulling away from your sensitive cunt and he moves up your body, placing sloppy kisses as he makes his way to hover above your face. He takes in the sight of you and his dick twitches as he surveys your disheveled state. Bringing his hand to your mouth, he places the fingers that were inside you just moments before on your lips, dragging down your bottom lip and watching it fall back into place.

What he doesn’t expect is the way your hand grasps at his wrist, holding it in place as you open your lips and take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits and sucking on them - maintaining eye contact the entire time.

“Fuck.” The groan he lets out at the action is guttural as he swiftly pulls his fingers from your mouth, immediately catching your lips with his in a heated kiss. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, pushing his hips down and grinding against you.

You whine at the feeling and reach for his pants, undoing the button and pulling down his zipper. Shuffling off of the bed, George stands and has his pants off in a flash - not wasting any time before climbing back onto the bed with you.

You sit up, immediately reaching out for him as you meet his mouth half way and drag your lips across his cheek before making your way down his neck.

His breath catches and he reaches for your hips, soaking in the way your lips and tongue trace across his collar bones. The large tent in his boxers is becoming increasingly hard to ignore, and he thinks that he might die if he doesn’t find some relief soon.

Little does he know, that’s exactly what you intend to fix.

You continue kissing down his body, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses and licks along his chest, working your way down to his stomach and reaching the waistband of his boxers.

You lightly nip at the skin directly above his underwear, smirking now that it’s his stomach quivering before you reach up to drag your fingers along the elastic of his waistband.

Glancing up, your eyes meet his and he lets out a laboured sound, one that falls somewhere between a sigh and a whine. He looks fucked out and you haven’t even touched him yet.

“Can I?” You slide your fingers beneath the waistband and tug, the material slipping lower on his hips, but don’t move any further.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m not asking if I have to,” You lightly trace a finger around the bulge in his boxers, enjoying the way he quietly gasps. “I’m asking if I can.”

He’s nodding before he can process what he’s doing, and you don't hesitate to slide the material down his legs, releasing his hard on as it bounces upwards and hits his stomach.

Your jaw drops at the size. Sure, you figured George would be big - what with his height and with the way the skinny jeans he used to wear never truly hid much - but seeing it in full? Nothing could have prepared you for the sheer sight of it. You were practically drooling.

George watches as you stare at his cock in shock and his hips squirm. He needs you to do something, anything - or he isn’t going to be able to hold back from completely wrecking you.

Not that he didn’t plan on doing that anyway, he just wants to let you have your moment - and the idea of your mouth on him is enough to have him cumming before you’ve even done anything.

“Are you going to keep staring? Or are you going to-” Before George can finish his sentence, you wrap your hand around his dick and anything he wanted to say flew from his mind, instead coming out as a rough gasp. “S-shit-”

You pump your hand up and down a few more times before you can’t stand it any longer. You lean forward, looking up to hold eye contact with him as you lick a slow stripe along the underside of his cock, staring from the base and making your way to his tip - where you tease your tongue along the slit at the top.

George lets out a grunt, doing his best to stop himself from bucking into your face. He can’t bring himself to look away as you swirl your tongue around his tip, paying close attention to what makes him twitch or grunt.

You pull away just to gather the spit in your mouth and let it drip down onto him, using the extra lubrication to start pumping your hand around him at an even pace.

He throws his head back at the feeling of your hand around him, unable to look at you as your hand moves up and down, up and down, over and over again. Your hand tightens its grip and he swears, letting out a groan.

You watch him, admiring the way he looks with his head thrown back. You squeeze your hand again and you revel in the way he has to roughly swallow.

Not slowing the movement of your hand, you lean forward again and take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue and sucking harshly, welcoming the salty taste of precum as it enters your mouth.

His head shoots up from its laid back position, eyes wide as he lets out a groan. “Holy fuck, Y/n.”

Something about the way he says your name, with the rasp of lust on his tongue, gives you the confidence to push your head further down - taking more of him into your mouth before pulling back for air.

You move down again, taking as much of him in as you can before you gag slightly, pulling a deep moan from George’s mouth. The sound is all you need to keep going, beginning to bob your head up and down.

George can’t believe this is happening. All of these years spent imagining this exact scenario and now it’s a reality - you are actually here, with his dick in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while using your other hand to reach what you aren’t able to take in.

He can’t stop the way his hips buck slightly upwards on a particular downward stroke and swirl of your tongue. You let out a loud moan around him, and he feels the vibrations in his gut. “Fuck, Darling- oh God, you’re mouth’s so- shit.”

His hand flies to your hair, gathering it into his hand and pulling as you continue bobbing your head. You moan again. “Yeah? Like when I pull your hair baby?”

You whine as he pulls at it again, and he groans. “God, feels so good- oh shit- don’t-”

You ignore his half-hearted protests as you slow your movements and press him further into your mouth, taking him all the way in, nose meeting skin, and swallowing around him to keep yourself from gagging.

George hits the back of your throat and chokes out a moan - he can’t do it anymore.

Before you can blink, George roughly pulls you off of him and flips your positions so that you are lying directly beneath him, his arms braced on either side of your head.

“As fucking amazing as that was, I’m not done with you.” He grinds down against your dripping cunt. “I want to be inside of you. Now.”

You let out a whine, clutching at his shoulders as he grinds against you again - making both of your heads fall backwards at the friction.

“Please- George please. I need you.” You scratch along his shoulders and he shutters.

He smirks as he reaches over to the nightstand, quickly pulling out a condom. “Oh- you need me, now? What happened to all that talk?”

You scoff, far past the point of wanting to be teased like that - you are ready now, and you intend to make that clear. Reaching up, you snatch the condom from his hands, bringing it to your mouth and ripping it open with your teeth.

You toss the foil packet to the side and make sure to look George in the eyes as you ever-so-slowly roll the condom on. “Just fuck me, G.”

He groans at your words, and wastes no time lining himself up to your entrance. George looks up at you and smiles, “Yes ma’am.”

And then he pushes into you, slowly stretching out your pussy and making you both moan out.

“Oh fuck- George.” His pace is measured, using all of his restraint to keep himself from thrusting completely into you and possibly hurt you.

He works his way in and out of you, pushing slightly deeper with each forward movement until he’s completely inside of you - your pussy taking him to the hilt, your hips pressed directly into his.

He’s so deep inside of you that you whine out again, breathing heavily. He hasn’t even started moving yet. “Holy shit-”

“Christ, Darling- youre so fucking tight.” His muscles tense, trying not to rock into you until you are adjusted to his size and ready.

The pain quickly morphs into pleasure, and you clench down tightly around him. “Shit- don’t-”

“George, please- I need you to move.” You don’t have to tell him twice. He immediately pulls out of you, leaving only the tip in, before swiftly thrusting back into your cunt.

“Oh God,” you cry out - clutching at his shoulders and he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

He watches your face scrunching in ecstasy, your moans being music to his ears. He brings his hands up - one to grab tightly at your breast and the other to find its favourite place around your throat.

He lightly squeezes the sides of your neck, and your jaw drops open - letting out a loud moan before snapping shut. He thrusts deeper at the sound, unable to help the immediate reaction.

George hovers over you, moving his hand from your breast and bringing it to your jaw and grabbing your chin. “Open.”

You immediately do as he says, opening your mouth and waiting in anticipation. He leans down and spits directly into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately moan and swallow. “Good fucking girl.”

“George- fuck, faster- please.” You sound pathetic, you know it, but you can't find it in yourself to care as George immediately picks up the pace.

He’s pounding into your cunt, hand wrapped around your throat and eyes firmly on your chest, watching as your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts. He uses his free hand to lift one of your legs higher, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. “Fuck- You’re so good to me.”

Your moans grow louder at his words, loving the praise and wanting more. “George- oh my god-” You are cut off as you feel his fingers find your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts.

“Shit- the best pussy - god you’re - always the fucking best, Darling.” He feels you clench tightly around him and he quickens his movements on your clit, pushing you further to your release. “Gonna cum, babe?”

“Yeah, yea- oh fuck George please-” You feel it building, that tension in your gut. You can feel it in your toes and you start rolling your hips to meet his. He leans down, catching your lips in a messy kiss.

He barely pulls away, speaking into your mouth as he says, “Give it to me, Y/n. Cum for me.”

It doesn’t take much more before you are arching off the bed for the second time tonight, wrapping your legs around George’s hips as he continues thrusting in and out of you, moving his fingers over your clit and working through your high.

You’re a moaning mess as he reattaches his lips to yours, tightening his hold around your neck again before completely removing his hand, opting to place both hands on either side of your waist.

You start coming down from your high, but you aren’t ready for this to be over and neither is he. His dick twitches as you begin grinding down against him, crying out at the feeling of his cock dragging against the walls of your sensitive cunt.

It takes two rolls of your hips before George can’t handle it anymore. His hands are shaking from holding back from you. He wants to give it all to you, and the way your hips are pushing and grinding against him tells him you want it just as badly.

He quickly pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of him before you’re letting out a loud gasp - hands flying outwards as he grabs your hips and swiftly flips you onto your hands and knees.

His dick throbs at the sight of your ass and bare back on full display for him. His hands come up to your ass and he groans, grabbing at the flesh and kneading it in his hands.

You press back into his hands. “George, please- I want it.”

“Yeah? You gonna take it all for me, Darling?” His hold shifts from your ass to your hips, keeping them in place as he grinds against your backside. “Think you can do it?”

“Yeah - yes. I can take it - want to take it all.” You’ve never wanted anything more.

He smirks at your words before leaning down over you, hands still on your hips as he starts at your ass and licks a long, slow trail along your spine. You shutter as you feel his tongue glide along your back and make its way over to your shoulder. As he reaches your shoulder, he bites down and draws out a gasped moan from your lips. His tongue slides over the marks that his teeth left, before he places a kiss there and moves to speak into your ear.

“Put your hands on the headboard. Now.”

You don’t hesitate to do as you're told, immediately placing your hands on the headboard and bracing yourself as you feel George reach down to position your legs further apart.

“Good?” He checks, running his hand up your back and allowing him to feel the way your breathing shutters with need.

“I’m good, G. Just do something-”

Your words are completely cut off as George grips your hips tightly and roughly thrusts into you - knocking the air from your lungs in a drawn out moan.

He doesn’t stop once, hips immediately finding and setting a punishing rhythm. He’s deeper than he had been the first time - allowing him to reach places no one had been able to reach before - and you can’t help the pornographic moan that comes from your throat.

The sound that comes from George’s chest is almost that of a growl - the feeling of your pussy gripping him so tightly, pulling him back in every time he pulls back, only spurring him to quicken his pace.

“Look at you, taking it - fuck, such a good girl.” He watches as his cock repeatedly sinks into you, coming out wetter each time he pulls away.

The room is full of the sounds of skin meeting skin and your moans of his name, your bodies colliding over and over as he rams deeper into you.

With one particularly deep thrust, your grip on the headboard slips and you push your face into the pillows, unable to hold yourself up any longer. The new angle directs George to the sensitive spot deep inside of you and you cry out into the pillows, pushing your hips backwards to meet his thrusts with your own.

“Yeah? That the spot, baby?” You moan back in response, nodding your head into the pillows. He grips your hips so tightly that it’s likely to leave bruises, watching as your ass bounces against his hips. “That’s right, take that dick baby - shit - doing so good for me.”

George keeps one hand on your hip, while the other comes to rest on your back, pressing your top half completely into the bed and leaving your ass up in the air. He pushes down, pounding into your cunt with no remorse and groaning as he watches his cock disappear into you. “Fuck, look at your pretty pussy - like it’s made for me.”

He lets out a growl as you clench down around him and his pace stutters. With no warning, your third release of the night comes crashing over you - causing you to scream out. The pleasure is overwhelming.

“Fuck - shit - gripping me so tight, i can’t - oh god-”

George doesn’t miss a beat, pulling out and turning you over before pushing right back into your dripping cunt. He places all of his weight on you, clutching you to his body as his hips snap harshly against yours. “Im gonna cum- oh shit - im coming -”

He thrusts in one, two more times before his movements stop and he’s spilling into the condom with a raspy groan of your name.

His body relaxes into yours, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you to his body as if he couldn’t bear the idea of separating from you. He peppers soft kisses over your shoulders and across your face as your laboured breathing slows to a normal rate.

After a moment, George places his hands on either side of your head and pushes himself up, giving him the opportunity to look at you.

Your hair is a mess, you have the beginnings of dark marks along your neck and over your shoulders, your lips are swollen and wet with spit, and you’re unbelievably sweaty - but he’s never thought you looked better. He can’t believe that he gets to see you like this.

At the same time, you’re taking in the adoration in his eyes, the way his shoulders are scratched to bits, the way his lips lift at the corners of his mouth into a soft, small smile. He’s perfect.

While you both would love to stay in this position forever, you’re both painfully aware of George’s softening dick and the mess on your thighs. So with great reluctance, George sits up and pulls out of you - murmuring a soft apology when he sees your face scrunch up in a grimace. He gets off of the bed and you watch as he disappears into the bathroom.

Holy shit - did that really just happen?

It’s only minutes before George is walking back into the room, wet cloth in hand and condom nowhere to be seen.

He moves back to the bed, leaning forward and spreading your legs. He brings the cloth up, softly cleaning away the sticky mess on your thighs, placing kisses on your leg every time you wince from the overstimulation on your sensitive cunt.

Throwing the cloth into the trashcan by his desk, George crawls back into the bed and immediately pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you into his body as he pulls the blankets over the both of you.

You place a slow, soft kiss on his lips before you curl into his chest. He sighs in content and you relax into his hold.

Neither of you speak. You don’t have to. You both choose to stay in the moment, laying pressed against the person you love, and save any conversation for in the morning.

It’s like that, wrapped snugly in George’s arms, that you begin to drift off - lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the arm rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

• • •

You’re the first to wake up, disoriented until you remember where you are and who it is that has their arm thrown around your waist.

You roll over and stare as you come face to face with your best friend, the man you are hopelessly in love with, fast asleep next to you. It takes a moment for the shock of your situation to pass out of your system - and even then it never fully goes away.

Turning to look at the ceiling, you run over the events of the last sixteen hours. Last night really happened. You shagged George Daniel - your George. It was real, the ache between your legs being a prime indicator of such. You couldn’t believe it - but what did this mean for the both of you?

You shift onto your side so that you can face George as he sleeps, taking in his peaceful state. His eyelids flutter in his sleep and he lets out a soft hum as he tightens the arm around your waist.

You don’t stop yourself as the urge to touch him takes over you. Reaching up, you begin to lightly trace his face with your fingertips - dragging them over his cheeks, his brows, his forehead - committing all of his features to your memory.

Your fingertips eventually reach his lips, and it’s as you run them over his cupid's bow that he stirs awake - but you don’t move your hand away.

He lets out a quiet noise, shuffling for a moment before his eyes flutter open to meet yours. George blinks once, twice and then smiles a soft, dopey-looking smile that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

Noticing that your fingers are still resting by the corner of his mouth, George turns his head so that he can place a kiss on your index finger, following it with a kiss to your middle, ring, and pinky fingers.

You watch him in awe as he brings his hand up to wrap around your wrist before slowly trailing kisses up your arm and pulling you completely into his embrace.

His arms wrap tightly around you and he begins peppering kisses across your face, sending a smile to your lips and pulling a giggle out of you. George chuckles, bringing his nose up to rub against yours before pushing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

The kiss grows in passion, your lips moving in sync as you roll on top of him, and it’s not until you’re pulling away for air that your moment is interrupted. Beneath you, George’s stomach growls, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your throat at the sheepish look on his face.

“Hungry?” You tease, lowering your face back down to his.

He hums, bringing his hand to the back of your neck and pulling your face closer to his, trying to go in for another kiss. “Maybe.”

“Well then,” You pull away from him, fighting the smile that tries to work its way onto your face at the offended look George gives you. “I think I can fix that.”

Rolling off of him, you get up from the bed and grab one of George’s t-shirts from a stack near his bed, throwing it over your naked form. You start walking towards the door before you throw a glance over your shoulder at George, who’s laying in the bed and watching you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Well? Better go freshen up while I start on breakfast.” And with that you make your way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving George staring after you in shock.

It takes only a minute before George is scrambling out of the bed and hurrying into the bathroom, not daring to waste another moment that could be spent with you like this.

In the kitchen, you start cooking up the breakfast foods that you found in George’s fridge. You turn on the stove, prepping the bacon and eggs to be cooked.

George, now fully awake and feeling much better after freshening up in the bathroom, makes his way to the kitchen and freezes in the doorway at the sight in front of him.

There you are, swaying your hips back and forth to a silent tune as you stand at the stove cooking, wearing just his shirt. He crosses his arm and leans against the doorway, watching you flutter about his kitchen. The sight is overwhelmingly domestic - you in his clothes, in his kitchen, moving around like it’s your flat just as much as it is his. It makes his chest tight with the surge of adoration he feels looking at you.

He never wants to stop, and he will be damned if he lets this chance go.

“I think I could get used to this.”

You startle in place before turning around, finding George leaning against the doorframe in only a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips - his bare chest on full display. You swallow and quickly turn back to the food on the stove with a small smile on your face.

“Could you, now?”

“Oh, yes.” George pushes off the doorframe and makes his way to stand behind you, where he wraps his arms around your body and places a tender kiss on the side of your head. “I definitely could.”

You smile and turn around in his arms so that you’re facing each other, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. Your fingers start running over the short hair at the back of his neck and George lets out a hum, leaning forward to rest his head against yours.

He smiles as he moves in, placing his lips on yours. The arms around your waist tighten their hold, and you pull his face closer to yours by the back of his neck.

You drag your tongue across his bottom lip and his breath hitches as he pulls back smiling. The both of you stand there for what feels like hours - when in reality only seconds have passed - simply basking in the other’s affection.

Resting his forehead on yours once more, George sighs happily,looking directly into your eyes as he breathes out your name, smile not wavering once. “Y/n.”

And with that one word, the way he says your name like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard, everything just stops.

It’s you and him, just like it’s always been, but the air has changed, something has shifted. Neither of you are scared of this - of the feelings, of the possible consequences - you’re both sure of what you want, and now you both know that you’ve been wanting the same thing.

It’s you and George. Your George, George Daniel, your best friend in the entire world - and you are so very head over heels for him.

That doesn’t mean that you aren’t worried that you’re completely reading into all of it. It could have been a one night thing and he could want to go back to being best friends, but you are absolutely certain that you won’t ever be able to go back to the way things were.

You need him to say it.

“George, I don’t want to just be your best friend. I can’t be.” Your words pull the both of you out of the moment you had created and you watch as George’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I thought we got past that last night?” He pulls back slightly to get a better look at your face. Had last night not been enough for you to realize how he felt about you?

You let out a sigh. “I know, I just-”

“Y/n.” The way he says your name is stern, demanding of your complete attention. George pauses, steeling himself for what he’s about to say before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I’ve been in love with you for ages. We’ve never been just friends and I don't exactly want to start now. Not after last night. Not after I finally got what I’ve been wanting for as long as I can remember.”

Your jaw drops at his confession, bringing your hand to your chest to rest it there - as if to slow the racing of your heart and keep it from beating completely out of your chest. “You what?”

George doesn’t hesitate in his response, looking directly into your eyes as he speaks. “I love you. A ridiculous amount, actually.”

“George-” This can’t be real. No way he just said those three words that you’ve dreamt of falling from his lips. He loves you. He loves you.

He cuts you off. “You don’t have to say it back, that’s not why I said it-” His eyes scan over your features, trying to read your expression, “but god - please tell me last night meant something to you too, because I really don’t want this to be a one night thing and-”

You grab his face in your hands, cutting off his words and looking back into his eyes as you say those three words back. “I love you.”

The tension leaves his body, his eyes shining.“Wait, you-”

You cut him off again. “I. Love. You.” You punctuate each word with a kiss before attaching your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

You cup his jaw as he brings a hand up to tangle in your hair, holding your face against his and pulling you closer to him by your waist.

The kiss is full of love and adoration, years worth of affection that was once suppressed is now spilling out - showing itself through every look and every touch exchanged.

George is the first to pull away as he glances down and smiles. He brings his hand away from your hair and moves it to your neck, where he gives a slight tug on the gold necklace that you didn’t take off last night.

He looks up at you with so much love that you have a hard time breathing. You’re frozen in place, overwhelmed by the feeling in your chest that grows the longer you look at him.

All of the silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting, it’s all led to this moment - and you’ve never been happier.

That is until George’s smile falls and his nose scrunches up.

“Do you smell that?”

Oh my god the food.

“Shit!”

• • •

a/n: And that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed George and Darling as much as I did :)) I honestly had a lovely time working on this (minus the part where i lost 9k of it while i was writing and had to completely rewrite the last half) and im happy to have been able to share it with you. The lack of George fanfiction is devastating, especially as a team George truther (iykyk), and i am glad that i was able to contribute to the cause. Its been fun!! I'm going to go drown myself in holy water now, see you later <3 xoxo - K

#george daniel #george daniel smut #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george daniel fic #team george #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #i maybe have something else planned #but itll be a while #K's 1975

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

Can you please write the “Jungkook thinks you’re perfect” drabble from his perspective? 🥰

sure can, bb! anon is referring to this drabble.

You once made the mistake of asking Jungkook what he did on the days you worked and he didn’t. You cringed at his answer, but all your flustered laughing didn’t make it any less true: he waited for you to get home.

He’d putter around the apartment, prepare lunches for the pair of you to take on your next busy days, and then he’d sit on the couch. And on that couch, he’d spend whatever time he wasn’t napping, staring at the clock.

Every now and then, he’d try to fill the time with mindless TikToks or video games - they did a poor job of maintaining his interest, though. Not when you weren’t there to lean into his shoulder, ask him questions, or banter endlessly about whatever it was you were both fixated on.

You made every mundane moment interesting.

Funnier.

Better.

Maybe that’s why his first instinct upon hearing your key in the lock was to greet you at the door.

Before you could cross the threshold yourself, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you clean off the ground. You gasped, sounding more horrified than surprised, and sputtered, “Baby, put me down!”

He did as you asked, though he didn’t know why you asked, and then he kissed your cheek in a feeble attempt to soothe the redness growing there. “You okay?” He frowned when your eyes wouldn’t lift to meet his.

You’d never had this reaction to him carrying you before. Did you get hurt at work somehow?

“Yeah, I’m fine!”

Your best approximation of a reassuring smile didn’t convince him, but he didn’t press the issue. Something was bothering you; you’d tell him if and when you wanted him to know.

Instead of doubling down on your declaration like he expected, you tried to step around him.

He slid into your path, earning furrowed brows in response. “This is a toll road, love,” he tutted before pointing to his now-puckered lips.

His chuckle vibrated through the both of you when you paid up. Reflexively, his hands cupped your face to keep you close. His whole body warmed when he felt the upward curve of your mouth, however slight. There she is, he thought.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t trap you forever on that doorstep just to kiss you dizzy. He eventually stepped out of your way and let you pass by - only to follow behind as you headed for the bedroom.

Part of him wished he wasn’t so childishly eager to see you when you’d spent a few hours apart. At times like this, he wondered whether his giddiness was off-putting. If his enthusiasm was exhausting after a long day of dealing with other people’s shit. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t hold back.

Was this how the cavemen felt the morning after the world’s first sunset? When they learned for sure that the warmth they thought they’d lost forever re-appeared like a miracle, and it would do this same thing every single day?

You looked surprised when he slipped into the bedroom at your heels. He didn’t let your expression stop him, though. He launched himself onto the bed and blinked his heart-eyes up at you.

Underneath your confusion, there was something brewing that he couldn’t put his finger on. He then watched you shrink in real-time. He hated when you did that, especially because he didn’t know why, or what he could ever say to prevent it.

To be very clear, he wasn’t ogling you. While there was, of course, always some amount of desire simmering in his chest for you, that’s not what had him hypnotized. It was adoration, more than anything else, that made it so hard for him to look away.

That, and the tiny scar on the front of your right shoulder - the one shaped like a butterfly that marked the spot of your laparoscopic surgery in high school; and the identical one mirrored on your back.

And the silkiness of your skin, and the smattering of freckles that appeared when any part of you saw the sun.

And the perfect softness of your stomach, and the curve of your waist above your full hips. Your thighs, the faint white squiggles that were barely visible there, the little dimples at the very base of your back.

He’d ask you to sit for a sketch if he thought you’d ever say yes; but he knew you wouldn’t. You were so shy about capturing your likeness in photos, whether they were hand-drawn or taken with a proper camera. He wished you weren’t. He’d wallpaper the whole damn apartment with images of you if you wouldn’t hate him for it.

You’d point out every flaw you saw that he’d never see, not even with a magnifying glass. He couldn’t find what didn’t exist to be found.

When you finished taking off your trousers and replaced them with his sweatpants, he was conflicted. He mourned the loss of one of his favorite views, but it tickled him fucking pink to see you in his clothes. You could keep those ratty things forever if he got to keep you. You could have his entire closet, really - there wasn’t a thing he owned that looked better on him than it would on you.

You had that same indecipherable look in your eyes when you finally noticed him gazing up at you. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he did what came naturally: he flopped down onto his back, stared at you upside down, and wordlessly begged you to fill the space between his open arms.

As soon as you indulged him, he sprung the trap. He pinned you down gently underneath him and fired off all the kisses he’d been stockpiling in your unfortunate absence. And there it finally was - that fucking giggle. How could he be expected to go nine entire hours without it?

When he ultimately - regrettably - had to pull away for air, there was only one thought running through his mind.

“I have a question and I need you to answer honestly, okay?” He began quietly with brows furrowed.

Your smile was whisked away and replaced with something laced with panic. That wouldn’t do. He chewed his bottom lip as he tried to find the right way to phrase it.

He was genuinely perplexed and desperate for an explanation. The best he had were five simple words.

“How are you so perfect?”

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mygoo · 1 year

Text

I'm going to outlive my son. It's the saddest realization for any parent, but it's one I can't deny anymore. See, my son is fat. No really, faaaaaat. Take whatever you're thinking in your head and double it, heck triple it even and you're probably still thinking too small.

His mother and I tried for years to get him active, to get him interested in the outdoors, sports, heck any physical activity, but the only physical activity he cared about were ones that ended in food.

We tried at first to guide him into making better decisions. Surely as he matured he'd realize that all the food and all the weight wasn't worth it, but the gentle treatment didn't work. We never wanted to be strict parents, but we decided that drastic measures had to be taken when he reached his teens with his weight still climbing. We rid the house of anything unhealthy and kept an eye on his eating like a hawk and he finally started dropping weight to our slight comfort.

Looking back now I see how short-sighted we were. It's one thing to control your kid, but he won't be a kid forever. At some point he's going to need independence, a job, a car, all the facets of a normal adult life and hopefully someone to share it with. Out on his own he could eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted, especially once we found out his first job was not what he originally told us, but a job at one of the local fast food joints.

Slowly at first, but surely his weight started creeping up again. He'd bounce around between jobs depending on what cuisine he was especially feeling and how long they'd keep him on before realizing how much he was literally eating into their profits. We'd failed. Just like his youth anything he did was motivated by food. We were all out of ideas. Time passed by in this stalemate, the only needle moving faster being the one on our bathroom scale.

We had thought about kicking him out, but at this point I don't think he could even live on his own. He had every weight-related medical condition in the book, every one a missed wake up call to turn back. Things that people in their 50s would start worrying about, not someone less than half their age.

Getting on disability took away the last reason for him to ever get off his copious ass, so it's no surprise that his mobility vaporized shortly thereafter. Some days I wonder if he'll see 30. It'll surely be a miracle of medical science if he does.

I couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a curse the day I found his online persona, through the further I looked, the more I gravitated towards the latter. It finally made everything make quasi-sense, a reason for the way he lived his life, if you can even call it that, but it did so in such a disgusting, heartbreaking way. He catalogues his gains to a sadistic audience hungry to watch him blow up. He talks about how much he loves his weight, shockingly especially its side-effects, reveling in being out of breath simply from rolling over in bed. The post where he declared himself immobile is proudly pinned to the top of his page, racking up comments of support and congratulations from the people feeding into his addiction, both figuratively and literally with constant food deliveries I had long-assumed he had ordered for himself. It's all so fucking disgusting, and it's something I will never tell my wife, something I will take to my grave long after his.

As far as I'm concerned, he's already gone. He was lost 100s of pounds ago. There's no son in that void of a room, just a mound of flesh, endlessly growing until the day it doesn't. Goodbye, son. I hope you really love all your flab like you say you do, because it's all you got, and there's a ton of it.

#wg #wg stories #wg story #dark #Immobile #father/son

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mokutone · 10 months

Note

your art makes me wanna start testosterone

i can't read tone well, so this is either an incredibly touching ask, or an extremely funny one, and in the absence of confirmation: both!

i'm in a chatty mood, so i'll share some thoughts about testosterone and my art.

i liked being on testosterone a lot. i had an IM injection every two weeks (on tuesdays!) and because that's a sizeable dose every 14 days that slowly disperses, it can cause some mood fluctuations (every other friday i would have a crisis about not feeling like the world had a place for me in it) but even those were far more manageable than the ones that would come with my previous and current monthly hormone cycle (every month i spend a solid week thinking the world will never have a place for me in it)

It gave me a patchy little bit of scruff on my chin and a whispy mustache under my nose that still struggles on, despite adversity!

It redistributed my fat a little bit, but that's long since gone back to pre-T shape.

it lowered my voice! that hasn't changed :^)! even if i never go back on t, that won't change. it was the thing i most wanted, and its the one i'm most grateful for. Pre-T, I didn't speak much. I'm getting better and better at talking and getting more and more comfortable communicating with people because of it.

having been off t now for 3 years, i don't pass anymore—not as a cis man, or a cis woman, certainly not as anything approximating straight. if people look at me and see anything, i'd hazard a guess that they see me as A Queer (the noun—for all it's complicated connotations).

i'm not surprised that my art might make somebody want to start testosterone! a lot of my art was made out of the aching grief that came with being kicked off of testosterone, and how neatly that loss of autonomy over my own body knits in with yamato's loss of autonomy over his own.

how my body started doing things i disliked, how i didn't have the support necessary to access the healthcare i needed—how my inability to give myself what i needed made me feel as though i were trapped inside of myself and abandoned (by both myself and the world at large)

when i write comics about yamato as a trans man, i don't take away his testosterone, because that hits a little too close to home for me. for Ninja War Town Reasons, he has plenty of access to all the HRT he could ever need and nobody questions his need for it—instead, i project my own horrors onto the way Danzō defined his identity for him as a child, the way that Kabuto and Obito dehumanize him as an adult in their war efforts, and reduce him to the thing his body holds (the Mokuton). I give him a kneejerk compulsion to dehumanize himself (out of a feeling that he has a duty to his community to do so) and I give him a slow-growing resistance to that impulse (which comes out of a feeling that the people he loves would frown upon seeing him reduce himself like that)

it's dysphoria! it's not gender dysphoria, but it's a loss of self, and a need to reclaim it. it's a war between the hollow shell of a thing he thinks he has to be, and the vibrant and messy person beneath it that he is. it's a desperate need to say "this is who i am—only i can say it"

I enjoyed HRT a lot. it was a really useful tool in helping me feel like my body was my own, that i didn't have to fight it, that we were the same entity. It's not the only tool, but it was a really good one, and one day I hope to use it again.

(as for the being off of it—it's unpleasant, but i'm enduring! being somebody who now doesn't really pass as anything has put me in a weird and interesting position, where I'm constantly having to declare myself to people, because nobody knows what to make of me on any front. they don't know if i'm a man, a woman, nonbinary, nor even what age i am (Augh!!!!) it forces me to be brave and vulnerable more than I'm comfortable with—if I tell somebody I'm a man, there's no way that they will believe I'm cis, but I'm not about to recloset myself—and I don't think I could at this point anyway.)

(there's something fascinating about the position i find myself in, and while i'd leap back on t the moment that an opportunity presented itself to do so, i do feel like i'm experiencing something interesting and important in this weird zone i find myself in)

#yamswers #anonymous #dysphoria discussion #q slur — only because i literally use it in the noun form most associated w/ dehumanization #i love that u asked this on a tuesday. thank u for asking this on a tuesday #happy testosterone tuesday to all who celebrate #i also got top surgery a while ago—which is responsible for about 50% of my average suicidal idealizations vanishing #because my chest was my second biggest site of dysphoria after my voice #it was far less painful than i dared imagine. and far more satisfying. i had an excellent and lucky recovery #my results aren't perfect but oh man. the joy of being able to press my hand (flat) to my chest (flat).#the way that a binder mimics the exact squeeze around my lungs that a panic attack stimulates—#not feeling that when i'm out in public? thank you modern medicine. thank you. oh my god. no more false flag panic attacks #i had to fight my insurance for two years and all the health providers i contacted told me the hoops i was being made to jump through #seemed utterly ridiculous. and it was still gobs of money but i got it. so grateful u cannot even imagine #a lot of people describe their feelings post op as “relief—finally i could see myself”#but i experience...more delight than relief. joy. is joy the absence of pain or the presence of happiness? can i tell the difference?#on my worst days i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on

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bengiyo · 10 months

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Tokyo in April is…: Ren Thought He Raped Kazuma for Ten Years

I apologize for the provocative title, but it’s something I want to unpack in this episode. As a Sad Gay Boy Who Watches Too Much Stuff, I want to get into the depths of the horror that Ren has lived with for ten years, and how it informs so much of his behaviors. I have a lot of complicated thoughts about this and will be using direct and sometimes-coarse language to talk about some of these ideas in this post. Please bear that in mind as you continue.

Trigger warnings: sexual assault, self-harm, suicide, child abuse, child disownment.

Ren is such a terribly tragic character. It’s been a long time since we had a gay character so completely unable to accept the love being poured onto him, and I think we need to get into why Ren is so incapable of love that he doesn’t even know how to cook.

It’s Mutual, But They’re Gay

Let’s start with everything through the aftermath of their first time.

We often see the trope of “It’s mutual, they’re just idiots.” I don’t think that applies here. Like with Lee Wan and Shin Ki Tae in Our Dating Sim, Wan didn’t conceive of a reality where Ki Tae reciprocated his feelings. Ren couldn’t ask Kazuma directly if he was also interested in him and had received indication from Kazuma that he was interested in girls.

In a spiral that he would never connect with Kazuma, a kind boy that he loves dearly, he decides to just get it over with and solicits sex from a stranger on the web.

Meanwhile, Kazuma has been nursing a crush on Ren this entire time, but he keeps second-guessing himself because every time Ren invites him somewhere, Ren also covers the fact that he’s angling to be alone with Kazuma by inviting other people around. When asked about girls, he gives the expected answer; we’re all men here, right? When he sees Ren going so far as to solicit sex online, he’s confused.

He chases the guy off, and declares that, if Ren has to do it, to do it with him.

Ren is always holding back with Kazuma, and it hangs over their first time. He apologizes that Kazuma’s first time is with him instead of a girl he might like, and Kazuma’s face drops. Ren asks if they can kiss, and quickly backs off the request. He remains completely still for the kiss, clearly scared of taking too much.

During the act, Kazuma gets overwhelmed with emotions about how the boy he admires so much is having his first time in such a seedy place. He begins to weep, and Ren interprets this as Kazuma being upset that he just did something so intimate with him. He thinks the favor he asked for hurt his friend.

Kazuma has no memory of anything after that night. He got deathly ill, and by the time he was cogent again Ren was gone. For Ren, the horrors are just beginning.

The Horrors

Before we get into this, I think it’s very clever of this show to frame the scenes in the past within this episode as coming from the memory of Ren. I think it gives them permission to go for style, and I think it makes filming easier for everyone. It allows things to be played kind of stilted.

The next morning, Ren realizes that something is wrong with Kazuma and he’s very sick. He does the responsible thing and calls for medical assistance. I can’t imagine how terrified he must have been at that moment. The boy he loves is dying, and now he’s got to tell the adults in his life that he might be the culprit and he’s been told that Kazuma might die. In his mind, he coerced Kazuma into sex, and in conjunction with his waiting around in the rain, enabled him to get deathly ill. A part of him probably wonders if he should have noticed something while they were intimate and sleeping next to each other.

gif by @save-the-data

He knows exactly what he’s admitting to, and still goes through with it. He doesn’t like. Kazuma’s life is more important to him than any consequences he might face. He says he forced Kazuma to have sex with him and reports on his lack of food intake, and then Kazuma’s mom slaps him and says to never appear before her son again. He is then summarily disowned by his family, forced to change his name, and sent away to France to be forgotten.

I think it should be noted here that Ren is a bottom. I can’t help but imagine the kind of images the adults int eh room must have conjured when he reported his actions. You know in their minds he forced himself inside of Kazuma as Kazuma struggled weakly. Could they have conceived of some sort of psychological coercion where Kazuma tops him? I don’t think so. They will never understand the sad disconnect between two boys who loved each other.

Seeing that he may never see Kazuma again, Ren has a terrifying moment involving a sharp tool. Thankfully, he fails, and goes to see Kazuma at the hospital. He breaks down crying as he apologizes to an unconscious Kazuma for liking him.

He begs Kazuma to live.

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

After this, he is sent to France, and Kazuma loses his old phone and his various Tokyo contacts.

That’s what Ren sat on for ten years. His last encounter with the first boy he loved was an emotionally confused sexual encounter followed by a terrifying health incident and ostracization from his family. He thought Kazuma regretted the entire exchange and almost died because of it. He believes he forced his friend to do something against his will. He thinks he raped his friend. He lost his family. He wears a wristband to hide his scars

That was the last ten years for him until he finds Kazuma’s box of research.

Ren Has Few Love Languages Left

Oh, but Kazuma is here! He was looking for him! Kazuma doesn’t regret what they did! He means exactly what he’s been saying this whole time. He missed Ren. He searched for him. It wasn’t just Ren. It wasn’t just in his head. He’s literally begging Ren to let him back in.

I cannot overstate how gentle it was for this show to follow up on such a heavy set of reveals by showing these two in a domestic bubble for most of the remaining episode. Still, I can’t get over how this forces us to see how stunted Ren is by the entire affair.

Ren doesn’t have much game. He doesn’t flirt with Kazuma that much. All he can do is spend time with him and seek reassurance and connection through sex. He doesn’t have a lot of other hobbies, so has no special places to share with Kazuma. He can’t make food for Kazuma to share his affection.

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

So often in these Japanese shows, food itself is love. Unlike Kakei Shiro, Ren doesn’t know how to cook. He can’t express his affections back to Kazuma in that way. All he has is love of his shows and the ability to spend time with Kazuma. It’s at this point that their Friends With Benefits rules start to break down. Ren spends the next few days living with Kazuma. He doesn’t want to leave him anymore.

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

They start cooking together and feeding each other food. As a gay man, I’m choosing to read them both feeding each other in a sexual context. We get Kazuma’s voice over saying, “Nothing else mattered. You’re the only thing that’s important to me, Ren,” as Ren smiles at a sleeping Kazuma and strokes his face.

These two are doing so much better that their coworker comments on how good they both have been looking lately!

Final Thoughts

My only goal with this was to write down how deeply sad Ren made me in this past episode. We see so many gays in these shows that are Shiny and Chrome. I find myself often drawn to the gay men in these shows who have suffered, because I have suffered. I carry old wounds on my soul from the gay disappointments of my youth. For all the spectacular sex that these two are having, I am struck with the deep sadness that Ren is just now learning how to express love to someone.

I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve hurt someone because of a misunderstanding and know that you will never be able to do anything to make it right. I know what it’s like to be young and love a boy and think that he doesn’t love you back only to later be told that he was interested. It hurts. It is a permanent ache you feel in the joints in your hands.

I get Ren. I am rooting for him.

#Ben writes #tokyo in april is...#shigatsu no tokyo wa...

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dr3amofagame · 5 months

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not super polished meta or anything but something i do think is really interesting and kind of a trend with how c!dream sees factions is how...quite consistently, c!dream doesn't judge a faction as umm holistically as one might guess, especially because a common thought in this fandom is that c!dream just hates factions in general by default (and i mean, id say he's not fond of factions and obviously has a distaste for faction conflict, but he's not nearly as immediately going after factions guns blazing the way that i think people can think of him sometimes)--rather, quite consistently, c!dream's perception of a faction at any point in time is a reflection of his perception of its leader.

lmanburg, at the very beginning, he clearly saw as unreasonable, kind of stupid and delusional, but still something to be treated with a degree of caution...which is how he saw c!wilbur, this guy who was making really fucking preposterous claims (what the fuck do you mean new server. like for this guy he might as well have been declaring that this place was a whole new planet while making pretty overt moves towards war if you disagreed with him) but also had gathered quite a following and wasn't going to take no for an answer. l'manchildburg and all that

later on, c!dream sees lmanburg more neutrally and even positively when his relationship with c!wilbur improves. this is most telling when he talks abt lmanburg to c!wilbur at the beginning of pogtopia and during vassal--of course it's up to debate what c!dream's concrete plans were, but i'm pretty solidly of the belief that he wasn't planning to get rid of lmanburg at this point as i outline here. c!wilbur was willing to be reasonable and even peaceable, and so the same applied to the faction he ruled over

c!dream repeatedly expresses that his disagreement with c!schlatt is what causes him to align himself against manberg, and downright says that with c!schlatt at the helm he doesn't believe that peace between their two nations can be maintained. this is a constant, honestly, down to when c!schlatt dies--c!dream never truly thinks well of manberg, and it seems quite obviously to be a direct result of who was in charge

after c!wilbur dies, despite expressing positive sentiments to c!wilbur later on in statements such as "the smartest person on the server" and quoting him during doomsday and the like, c!dream's assessments of him as a leader as he expresses to c!quackity are quite negative. which is interesting, when you consider that part of the angle c!wilbur takes up during vassal is specifically that he'll be ambitious like schlatt the way c!dream explicitly says he felt threatened by in his sales pitch to convince c!dream to blow up lmanburg with him. c!dream wanting lmanburg to be blown up at the same time as its "ruler" (as c!dream clearly did see c!wilbur as the authority over lmanburg) wanted it to be blown up...hm.

c!dream expresses sentiments along the lines of willing to cooperate and coexist with c!tubbo especially after c!tubbo "puts the good of the nation" first instead of choosing to pursue a conflict against c!dream. to c!quackity, c!dream talks about c!tubbo to be fair and reasonable, qualities he evidently values in a ruler

in stark opposition, c!dream's disagreement with mexican lmanburg has everything to do with his perception of c!quackity as a reckless, conflict-seeking (and that's the common thread, really. c!wilbur sought conflict in the revolution and then with his painting himself as chaotic and ambitious and seeking destruction, and c!schlatt was ambitious and murderous in a way that had very clear consequences in terms of starting conflict on the server) ruler with little regard for the consequences of his actions, as he says repeatedly over the course of the mexican lmanburg debates

finally, c!dream explicitly outlines c!tubbo's "failings" as ruler as being the breaking point in terms of green festival + doomsday and specifically says that c!tubbo is willing to let people in the cabinet walk all over him, as well as the fact that c!quackity is more of a president than he is. when we consider c!dream's already very negative assessment of c!quackity as a leader and how c!quackity had pushed a lot of the decisions that really made nlm a threat that was impossible for c!dream to reconcile with (especially with moves such as the butcher army), some of the underlying sentiments behind well the overt villain-isms of c!dream's speech here do seem to come to light.

and for some other moments that aren't quite as Big but still reflect this same idea--c!dream explicitly rejects nlm if it was under c!tommy's rulership but is willing to coexist with c!tubbo as president, both dethronements have a lot to do with c!eret and c!george's actions having negative consequences for the whole faction by compromising a neutral stand (and therefore compromising the quote unquote neutrality of the entire faction and possibly embroiling everyone into conflict), c!dream's willingness to work with the badlands, the difference between the factions that c!dream ignores post-prison versus the one that he attacks (las nevadas, obviously). it's interesting to me how often c!dream seems to view factions as almost being extensions of the will of the person leading them and how his opinion of a faction an his opinion of its leader bounce off of each other, yknow?

(this post is mostly a series of observations and absolutely oversimplified to a certain degree, but yeah 👍)

#i do think that's it's like. a tbh pretty damn simplistic view as well that does suit the character #who gets better at politics as the server progresses but is also pretty clearly in over his head #there are better ways to put all of this but yeah #c!dreamisms

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beautifulblooms · 2 years

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How do you think Prince sidon would deal with having a crush on a Hylian and he gave them a romantic gesture of protection. Crush does not realise this. Nobody told them. They thought it was because theyre friends and didnt know this was a part of Zora culture. They end up splitting apart because crush has to go elsewhere, but when they meet up again, crush still has it With them. Crush finds out this time that its a romantic gesture and they apologise to him for not realising, but they offer to continue having it even after they realise because they like him back if hes still interested?

Sidon Having a Crush on a Hylian Reader

Gn! Reader, omfg yes this is an amazing idea, I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun writing out a request, general fluff, I used the idea of the Zora Princess’s armor that Link got but for Sidon instead because well, there’s no more princess

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Hylia

First and foremost I mentioned this above but I feel like Sidon would make armor to show his like proposal to (y/n)

Would definitely resemble what he wears, similar style to his waist guard and collar

Luminous stones are imbedded into the metal and while Mipha’s was blue for Link, Sidon might want to make it more personal and choose a fabric color closer to his skin/scales

He makes sure to give it to (y/n) as soon as it’s done

“(Y/n)! I have something for you!”

“Oh Sidon, hi! What’s that?”

“It’s something I made for you, it should fit perfectly”

Not knowing that it was a literal proposal and declaration of his love, (y/n) just put it on and thanked the prince for the gift

Sidon was upset over the fact that there was nothing more than a thank you

He never showed his disappointment outwardly, but it did hurt to be half turned down by the person he hoped to be with for as long as they could be

The next day he was looking around for (y/n) but couldn’t find them

He began asking around to see who might’ve seen you, and heard the worst thing he possibly could’ve

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they were sent off on a mission with a few soldiers”

“I thought I saw them and three of the soldiers walking out of the domain”

“Mhm, (y/n) was heading out to get something, don’t know how long they’ll be gone for”

Hearing three different people confirm (y/n) was nowhere near the domain made Sidon panic

Had he driven them away at his proposal?

Did he cause this?

We’re there really soldiers with them or did they just tell everyone that there would be soldiers accompanying them?

How far were they going?

So many questions raced through his mind

But the one thing he could answer himself was that he caused this, him making the armor was a bad idea, and in the end it drove the love of his life away

That of course isn’t true but he didn’t know any better, they didn’t know any better

On the mission (y/n) began asking questions about the armor, why Sidon made it, what it stood for, things along those lines to the Zoran soldiers accompanying them

“Oh, the armor is made by Zoran heirs to the person they want to marry and mate with.”

“Wait, so it’s a proposal?”

“Of sorts, it’s for Zoran royalty only, a sacred art only they take the time to learn.”

“Oh Hylia I’ve fucked up, we need to finish this quickly, c’mon!”

And so from then on they refused to take more than a week to finish the mission, it was supposed to take a fortnight at minimum

The group made it to their destination the next day, receiving the needed materials and items from the area, and began their trip back home

As soon as the domain came into view, (y/n) started sprinting as fast as they could into the city

They had to find Sidon and apologize

Once crossing the final bridge into their found home, (y/n) asked around to see who knew where Sidon was

“Have you seen Prince Sidon anywhere I need to find him”

“I thought I saw him going to the reservoir, he might still be there”

“Thank you!”

The Hylian once again took off sprinting, this time towards the reservoir

“Sidon! Sidon where are you?!”

(Y/n) screamed as loud as they could into the lake, hoping to find him somewhere swimming in the vast waters

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here, I though you were on a mission?”

“Sidon! I-I was, we just got back, I’m so so sorry for what happened when you gave me this. I had no idea it meant so much to you I didn’t know what it stood for and why you gave it to me, but I do now. And- and I, I love you too, I want to be with you”

He simply stood there, shocked by everything he just had to take in

Processing it all as fast as he could he soon began smiling

“You didn’t know why I gave you the armor, that makes so much sense, why would you know you’re Hylian- who told you?”

“On the mission I asked one of the soldiers why you gave it to me, what it meant and why it was important. And then all of a sudden I felt awful, I just said thank you and left the next morning, I’m sorry Sidon, I can’t make up for what I did but I at least hope you can forgive me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I still do, if you’ll accept my proposal…”

“Of course”

#prince sidon x reader #prince Sidon x gn reader #prince Sidon #sidon botw #Sidon x reader #Sidon x gn reader #gn reader #breath of the wild sidon

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acrossthewavesoftime · 2 months

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"My compliments to all the family except for Lott[e]."

Charlotte Philiberthe von Nassau-Beverweerd (1649-1702) (detail); created between 1675 and 1694, though the hairstyle would suggest a date in the 1670s; in the collection of the Rijksmuseum.

For Valentine's day, here's a tale of a romance that did not quite turn out as expected, but left a string of interesting documents.

Let's picture the scene: you're in love. Who do you tell? Well, obviously, you might confide the butterflies in your belly to your best friend, and it just so happens that the lady who's quite turned your head is a distant cousin of his.

This is the situation one Hans Willem Bentinck (1649-1709) found himself in during January and February 1675. His crush was Charlotte Philiberthe von Nassau-Beverweerd, a distant relation (their grandfathers were half-brothers) of his closest friend, then-Stadtholder of the United Provinces and future King of England William III (1650-1702).

William III of Orange and Hans Willem Bentinck; dated to 1676. Collection of Stichting Kasteel Amerongen, via RKD Research.

William interceded on his best friend's behalf, and seems to have taken "Lotte", as he called her, aside when the latter, living with one of her sisters who had married an English noble, paid a visit to the Netherlands.

The Stadtholder, who was friends with Lotte as she was one of the few people who would engage him in some good, old-fashioned banter and, her love for a good joke aside, was an extremely intelligent conversationalist, made her promise to give a reply as to what he should tell his best friend; but that reply never came and so, William, writing to Lotte's brother-in-law, Thomas Butler, the 6th Earl of Ossory (1634-1680), with whom she lived, added a few P.S.-s to his usual (largely political) letters to Ossory:

In late January or early February, William wrote to Ossory:

(P. S.) I beg of you to tell Lott[e] that, all her cruelty aside, I love her with all my heart, and to reproach her that she has neither written, nor even replied to my letter, as she had promised when we parted. I also hope that she will soon declare herself on that which she had promised me to think on when we parted, for Bentinck is very impatient to know how he stands, which seems very reasonable to me. G.*

(* In case you're wondering why William, or Willem in Dutch, signed as "G.", in his private correspondence: it's the abbreviation of the French equivalent of his name, Guillaume.)

However, it looks like Lotte was still ghosting both Bentinck and William, because he signed another letter to Ossory, datable to February 1675, off as follows:

My compliments to all the family except for Lott[e]. G.

A third letter to Ossory lastly mentions Lotte in March 1675:

(P. S.) I beg of you to assure Madame the Countess [of Ossory] of my very humble services, and [Lotte] as well, regardless of my not having any reason to be pleased with her. G.

One imagines that William may have taken his best friend aside and told him to forget about Lotte. Sadly, we have no information on how Lotte reacted to these messages.

If there is anything to be taken from this tale of historical heartbreak, it is that this sort of thing happens. If this Valentine's Day you find yourself unhappy because you're celebrating it alone and rather would not to, remember that you're not alone. Maybe also talk to your best friend, even if they're not a powerful noble in charge of a country.

Oh, and don't be a Lotte and ghost someone with an (romantic) interest in you. Just tell them in polite, but no uncertain terms that you're not into them.

From a historian's perspective, I find it fascinating how the Lotte-letters to Ossory highlight a part of William III's personality that is largely overlooked; posthumously often regarded as a guarded, almost robotically emotionless man, the young William in his early 20s who tries to play cupid for his best friend and adopts a very domestic tone in his missives going so far as to utilise nicknames paints a rather different picture.

Lotte was evidently forgiven, because she became a member of William and Mary's court, and briefly served under Anne as well. She never married, and her motives for doing so have been lost to history.

As for Hans Willem Bentinck, he met a woman called Anne Villiers (1651-1688) two and a half years later: she was, her mother having been the governess of William's bride Princess Mary, the future Mary II, a sort of sisterly figure to the Princess, and the two met through the marriage of their friends/employers. Contrary to William and Mary, for whom love only developed gradually in the aftermath of a fairly traumatic arranged marriage (especially on the then-15-year-old Mary's part), for Anne and Hans Willem Bentinck, their romance was much more organic: they fell in love at their workplace, so to say. To crown their personal happy end, William III stepped in to provide Anne, who was of a respectable family, yet had no fortune to speak of, with a dowry.

For the letters from William to Ossory, see: Japikse, Nicolaas [ed.]: Correspondentie van Willem III en van Hans Willem Bentinck (1927-1935), Vol. II, ii, letters 4, 15 and 16.

#valentines day #history #17th century #william of orange #william iii #hans willem bentinck #charlotte von nassau beverweerd #dutch history

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celestiall0tus · 2 days

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Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 36 - Mayura

Beginning || Previous || Next

Alix walked to school as she listened to the radio. She flipped between radio stations that weren’t giving their morning news segment when she heard of an announcement from the mayor. She listened to it as he declared in a couple of months, Paris would be hosting a Heros’ Day in honor of the heroes that safeguard the city. She lingered a moment on the idea of it. It was generous of the mayor, and even the people, to host such a day, but it felt premature. They had no idea who Hawkmoth was or how to get to him. Maybe in that time, they could catch him and have that day truly mean something.

Alix turned off the radio and hurried to school. She walked up the steps as she tuned into the buzz of everyone around her. They gossiped about the mayor’s announcement and what they would do for Heros’ Day. She snorted and stepped through the doors when a chill passed over her. She stopped as her stomach twisted in knots that she felt like she was going to throw up. She took a sharp breath and sat on a nearby empty bench. She took deep breaths as she attempted to soothe the uneasiness, but it lingered.

“Alix? Are you ok?” Kim asked.

Alix glanced up and saw Kim with Max beside him. “The fuck do you want?”

“If you’re going to be rude about it, then forget it.”

“Good. Now fuck off.”

Kim flinched. Max nudged Kim forward.

“Actually, I wanted to apologize. For everything with Dark Cupid. I shouldn’t have come after you. I just… got really jealous that Chloe liked you more than me. You know?”

“Maybe it’s time you move on. If Chloe isn’t interested, there’s no point in pursuing someone that’ll never love you the way you want in return.”

“Precisely. I’ve told Kim this over the past couple of weeks since the incident. It has yet to fully sink in,” Max added.

Kim crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, it’s stupid. It’s me. Who better for Chloe than me?”

“Alix?” Max asked.

Kim’s shoulders drooped before he shook himself off and glared at Alix. “What is it about you that won Chloe over? What do you have that I don’t?”

“I don’t fucking know, and I don’t fucking care either. I told Chloe that there won’t be anything between us. And unlike you, she respects my boundaries. Maybe that’s something you should get in your head instead of letting it escape through that empty chasm you call a brain.”

Kim’s jaw dropped and he glowered at Alix. She stood, flipped him off, and headed up to homeroom. Her nerves fried and ate her alive the closer she got to her homeroom. She gulped and leaned against the wall before she slid to the ground.

“Alix? What’s wrong?” Rose cried.

Alix looked over at Rose, Juleka, and Luka. Rose knelt beside her while Juleka and Luka kept their distance.

“Sorry. I don’t feel well suddenly. Hit me like a damn truck,” Alix groaned.

“That explains your music. It’s jarring, unsettled, like it’s scared. No, not scared. A warning,” Luka whispered.

Juleka nodded. “You’re not alone, Alix. I feel it too.”

“Shit. I thought it was just… it doesn’t matter. What’s your sixth sense tell you, Juleka?” Alix asked.

“Danger. Real danger. Not like Hawkmoth. Hawkmoth there is unease, but it soothes over before long. This? This is all consuming.”

Alix stumbled to her feet. “Fuck this. I’m not waiting for it to show up.”

“But, school! You can’t just leave,” Rose whispered.

“I know, but I can’t just sit back and let whatever is going to happen, happen. Juleka, Luka, thank you. Have any of you seen Adrien?”

Juleka turned and pointed down in the courtyard. Alix peered over the railing at Adrien with Chloe, Nino, and Sabrina. Alix nodded to Juleka and Luka, pecked Rose on the cheek, then headed down to the others.

“Woah! Look who’s come to join us, dudes. How’s it hanging, Alix?” Nino asked.

“We’ve got trouble brewing. Something bad is on the horizon,” Alix whispered.

“What? How do you know?” Adrien asked.

“A sickening feeling and a pair of psychics. Say what you will, but I’m not about to doubt my own gut on this.”

“Well, do we have anything more to go off of than a gut feeling? I mean, what are we supposed to do anyway?” Chloe demanded.

“C’mon, dude, we’ll think of something. We just need to think,” Nino commented.

Alix drowned out Nino and Chloe’s arguing when she heard Rose and Luka yell out. She turned to see Juleka leaned against the railing for support. They fussed over Juleka, but Juleka’s eyes were glued to the front. She gulped as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked at the front and gasped. A woman in a dark blue dress with blue skin, short blue hair, and fuchsia eyes strolled in.

Alix reached for Adrien’s wrist and held him tight. He raised a brow when he looked in her direction. He gasped when he saw the woman. Cold dread consumed him when the woman looked at him and smiled. The woman closed the gap between them before Alix and Sabrina could react. He gulped as he stared up into her eyes before his gaze dropped to the peacock brooch at her chest.

Adrien gasped and stumbled back, but the woman caught him by his jaw. She pulled him closer to her and turned his head as she inspected him.

“Marvelous. Such a specimen you are. Born of love, unlike so many others. Well, there was one other, but it is such a poisonous love. Not like yours. So pure. So innocent. So… misguided and foolish.”

“I don’t understand,” Adrien whined.

“You don’t need to, but further analysis is needed. It’ll give us something to do while we wait.”

“Wait? Wait for what? The heroes.”

The woman laughed. “Heavens, no. For Hawkmoth.”

Adrien opened his mouth when the woman grabbed him. She held him under her arm as she leapt out of the school’s courtyard. He gasped as she ran through Paris to the Eiffel Tower. She perched up on it before she let him down.

“What’s going on? Why did you take me?” Adrien demanded.

“I already told you. Now, for the attention.”

Adrien scrambled away, but the woman held up her hand that had a pair of twin silver rings on the middle finger.

“Stop,” the woman commanded.

Compulsion fell over Adrien as he obeyed. His breath caught, his heart pounded, and fear consumed him. He glanced back at the rings as terror tore him apart.

The woman chuckled. “Oh, I just love the smell of fear.”

Adrien whimpered as the woman advanced. He recoiled from her outstretched hand when he spotted Bloody Bug and Porcelet. Excitement mingled with the fear as they attacked the woman. She sidestepped their attack and laughed.

“Almost, but the magic child gave you both away,” the woman said.

“Let him go!” Bloody Bug roared.

“I don’t think I will. Not until I get what I want.”

“Then I’ll just-!”

Porcelet stepped between Bloody Bug and the woman. “What is your name?”

“Mayura.”

“Mayura, a pleasure. What is it you seek?”

“My, how civilized. Unlike other company. Very well, Porcelet. I seek a prize you cannot give me: Hawkmoth.”

“But why kidnap Adrien Agreste if you seek Hawkmoth?”

Mayura chuckled. “Why indeed?”

“Enough of this! If you won’t give him back willingly, we’ll take him by force!” Bloody Bug yelled.

Mayura smiled. She plucked a feather out from her fan and let it go. It flew around Porcelet and changed from white to blue before it returned to Mayura’s fan. She grinned and created a slim creature that was skin clinging to bone. Slime and sludge oozed from the creature that emitted a horrendous odor that could turn any stomach. Its mouth hung agape in a permanent scream with empty, black eyes. Porcelet screamed while Bloody Bug jumped between Porcelet and the monster. She pointed her fan at the heroes as the creature howled and lunged. The heroes jumped off the tower as the creature pursued them.

“W-what was that?” Adrien whispered.

“A magnificent specimen. One should be enough, but just to make sure.”

Mayura plucked another feather and pressed it against Adrien’s cheek. He flinched as the white feather turned blue and she returned it to her fan. She gave rise to a ghastly wolf creature that was as tall as a building. Its legs were thin and elongated while its torso bloated. Horns jutted out from the top of the creature’s head along its back into a long, spiked tail. Its mouth twisted into a sharp-toothed grin as its black, empty eyes shone with malicious intent.

Mayura pointed her fan towards the heroes, now joined by Gallic Chick and Carapace. The creature gave a deep, low laugh before it slithered down the tower. A choir of screams ripped through the air. Mayura grinned as she basked in the fear.

“W-why are you doing this? You say you want Hawkmoth, but instead you terrorize the city and fight the heroes. If what you say is true, why oppose the city and the heroes?” Adrien demanded.

“Please. A creature like you would never understand, even if I did explain it. You’re just incapable to understanding.”

“And why’s that? Because I’m a child in your eyes?”

“Heavens, no. Because you are made of love, so love is all you can truly know. Anything born out of malice, hatred, rage, and all that fun stuff, you cannot fathom. Unlike that cousin of yours. Or would he be your brother? You had different mothers, but you are one and the same, right? Hmm, this may require further testing.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mayura growled. “Silence.”

Compulsion fell over Adrien as he obeyed. He watched as the Bloody Bug unified with Ziggy into a black and white raven and fought the monsters with Gallic Chick. His heart ached seeing Porcelet and Carapace struggle to battle the nightmare creatures. He whined when Mayura grabbed his face and forced him to look up. His eyes widened seeing a news helicopter.

“Let the show begin,” Mayura hissed.

Mayura pressed her fan against herself, turning a feather blue. She created a massive bird the size of a plane with majestic dark blue and fuchsia feathers. She pointed her fan at the helicopter, and it retrieved the vehicle. The news crew inside cowered as she approached them.

“Please, don’t hurt us. We’re just-!” Nadja yelled.

“Cameras on me and you won’t be hurt.”

The cameraman nodded and pointed a camera at Mayura. She smirked and pulled Adrien closer by his jaw.

“Oh, Hawkmoth, look what I have. You want your investment to stay safe, you’ll come to the Eiffel Tower to reclaim him. And in case you get cold feet.”

Mayura flipped off the camera with the hand with the twin rings. She snapped her fingers and the giant bird released the helicopter. She looked down at the fight to see her creatures were ensnared and tied up. She scoffed and turned as Bloody Bug and the team cornered her.

“We’re done with this. You’ve lost. Give us Adrien.”

Mayura tapped her folded fan against her chin. She smirked as she tapped it once against the railing, dismissing her monsters. She grabbed Adrien and leapt over the edge.

“Duusu! Unify!”

Adrien watched as light erupted from the brooch that enveloped Mayura. The light grew until it overshadowed the Eiffel Tower. It expanded and reshaped to the vague outline of a bird/human hybrid. He gulped as the light faded to reveal a massive anthropomorphic bird with six small wings, a plume of feathers styled like a fancy collar, and a long feather tail cape. Fuchsia eyes floated above her feather collar and tail that glared at them. The bird’s hand closed around him as it opened all of the eyes across its body.

Blood Raven gawked at the eldritch peacock monster before them. Her nerves ate away at her under its plethora of eyes. She sucked in a breath, jumped onto the railing, and glared at the monster.

“Bug, bird, whatever, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Carapace remarked.

“Are you insane? That thing still has Adrien. We have to fight it!” Gallic Chick snapped.

“Maybe we don’t have to. What if we found Hawkmoth? We don’t have to fight and risk Adrien,” Porcelet proposed.

“There’s no way I’m-!” Blood Raven started.

“Peacock!” a man yelled.

Everyone turned to see a man in an outlandish butterfly super suit and mask. The heroes’ faces twisted in confusion while the peacock laughed.

“My, doesn’t this explain your horrible designs. Such a shame. I was expecting something more intimidating.”

“Release the boy!”

The peacock shrugged and threw Adrien behind her. The heroes dove with Blood Raven being the one to catch Adrien. They ran to a nearby alleyway as a giant fox eldritch creature materialized.

Blood Raven gasped. “The old man!”

“Old man?” Carapace asked.

“We’ll explain soon. We need a way to get rid of Mayura. Even if it is temporary.”

“Why? Let’s just go. We got Adrien. There’s no need to stay here and fight demons,” Carapace argued.

“Excuse me, but there’s a-!”

“Please. We have Adrien. We could reengage, but there’s a good chance that we’ll get in the way of that fox. We should retreat while we have the chance,” Porcelet explained.

Blood Raven snarled. “Fine! Adrien, transform. We’re taking them to the old man’s place.”

Adrien nodded and transformed into Chat Noir. They headed through the city to Wang Fu’s massage shop. They entered his room, but it was empty. Chat Noir and Blood Raven shrugged as they sat at the table. The others exchanged glances before they took a seat. They waited there until Wang Fu returned.

“Good. You’re all here. We have business to discuss,” Wang Fu said.

“I’ll say. What was that thing?” Blood Raven demanded.

“That is a holder that reached the apex level and is fully attuned to their kwami. Something that is only for the Guardians.”

“What? What do you mean?” Chat Noir asked.

Wang Fu sighed. “See, usually with holders such as yourselves, we don’t allow you past the third tier. As it stands, Bloody Bug and Chat Noir are one step away from that while the rest of you are two steps. However, with that peacock holder, she’s one above that, making her on par with a Guardian like me.”

“Then what do we do? Can we even fight her?” Gallic Chick asked.

“Yes. But before that, Chat Noir, why was she after you?” Wang Fu asked.

“She didn’t explain well, but she wanted to use Adrien to get to Hawkmoth. I tried to get an explanation, but she never gave me one. And, on top of all that, she was able to control me.”

“Hold up. Control you? How?”

“Well, she held up these silver wedding bands that looked like my mother and father’s wedding bands. She’d speak a command and I had to obey. There was no chance to refuse. I had to listen.”

Wang Fu’s eyes widened as they darkened with fear. “Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Porcelet asked.

“This is grave. This is grave indeed. Chat Noir, I’m afraid that until Mayura is dealt with, you will need to be benched. For your and Plagg’s safety.”

“What? Why?” Chat Noir cried.

“Chat Noir, I believe you are a sentimonster, a type of creature created by the peacock miraculous. With the power of emotions, the peacock can ‘give birth’ to constructs made of any emotion they desire. Typically, the holder would need consent, but at her level, she can take what she wants.”

“What? But how? I mean, I remember growing up. I remember birthdays, and Chloe, we grew up together. I’ve seen my own birth certificate! How am I one of those things?” Chat Noir demanded.

“Yeah, how?” Gallic Chick added.

Wang Fu hummed. “I’m not sure. Most sentimonsters are made for a purpose, fulfill it, then are dismissed. It makes me wonder what purpose you were made for and what your function is. Regardless what the reason is, you are in danger, but as is Plagg. For both your safety, I ask you give Plagg back so we can find him a temporary holder.”

“Just temporary? You promise?”

“I promise.”

“What about Stompp?”

Wang Fu hummed. “Keep Stompp. I want to see if his power could safeguard you from Mayura.”

“What’s his power on his own?”

“His power can safeguard you from other holders’ powers. With luck, that means the peacock shouldn’t be able to control you.”

Chat Noir sighed and nodded. He took off his ring and handed it to Wang Fu, who handed it to Blood Raven.

“Pick a holder you can trust as much as Adrien but can also be an asset to you against Mayura.”

“I will. I promise.”

Wang Fu nodded and moved to his cabinets. He pulled out five elixirs and placed one in front of Gallic Chick, Porcelet, Carapace, Adrien, and Bloody Bug, then took a seat.

“Alright, now if you are to face this Mayura, you’ll need to be stronger. Gallic Chick, Carapace, and Porcelet, should you choose to stay and drink these potions, you’ll become more attuned to your kwamis. This will make you stronger and give you access to unification and passive powers based on the animal of the kwami.”

Gallic Chick and Porcelet’s eyes widened as they downed the elixirs. Carapace stared at it then shook his head. He pushed the elixir away, took off the turtle bracelet, and stood.

“Young man?” Wang Fu asked Nino.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can continue this. Not against Mayura. Hawkmoth was one thing with all his silly villains. But those monsters that Mayura made were horrifying. I just… I don’t think I can do this,” Nino explained.

Adrien stood and hugged Nino. “It’s ok, dude. We don’t think any less of you. We understand. Right?”

Gallic Chick shrugged.

“Of course. I was terrified. She made one of those monsters from my own fear. Seeing it was horrifying. I’ll likely have nightmares, but I also can’t run and hide. There are people in danger just as much as me. I just would prefer I stand against the evil to defend those that can only stand behind me.”

“I don’t fucking care about demons or anything. She can throw all of hell at me so long as I get the chance to rip her smug as smirk off her face and out her fucking ass,” Blood Raven hissed.

Everyone pursed their lips as they stared at Blood Raven. Adrien shook his head and turned to Nino.

“See, it’s all good. Do what is best for you, bro.”

“You sure, dude?”

“Always.”

Nino smiled and hugged Adrien. “Thanks, bro.”

“Be safe, bro.”

“You too.”

Nino gave a final smile and wave before he left the room. Adrien sighed and took a seat next to Blood Raven.

“Very well. We’ll see about getting you both another team mate. Now, for your elixirs, they will make you stronger, further attune you to your kwamis, but also give you access to amalgamation fusions,” Wang Fu explained.

“Amalgamation fusions?” Blood Raven asked.

“Yes. These fusions are quite… unique. Whereas most fusions will resemble a clear animal or creature, the amalgamations don’t. They will always appear as a mix of the animals with white skin, platinum appendages, and prismatic highlights. We have never figured out why all amalgamation fusions look like this. We just know that this is the result. And while Mayura is around, Bloody Bug, I want you to have this tool at your disposal. Especially if Mayura goes primal again.”

“So, that’s what that was? Some sort of primal form?” Porcelet asked.

“Yes. A form exclusive to those that are fully attuned, which is reserved only for Guardians. How Mayura came upon this knowledge, I know not.”

“And these amalgamations are enough to deal with the primal forms?” Gallic Chick asked.

“Close. They can match them in terms of power and strength. Another thing we’ve not been able to fully understand.”

“Why’s that?” Adrien asked.

“Because all that knowledge was lost to us. See, kwamis’ jewels were made by a human known simply as the Mage. Any account of their work has been lost. All we know is what was recorded by later humans.”

“You don’t think Mayura might have found it, do you? The Mage’s lost records?” Porcelet asked.

“Highly unlikely, but I wouldn’t dismiss anything at this point. Now, Adrien and Bloody Bug, drink the elixir.”

Adrien listened and drank his. Blood Raven de-unified and drank hers. Wang Fu nodded and pulled out the miracle box.

“Pick a new teammate, as a team,” Wang Fu added.

“Well, there’s only been two others, right? Bomb Bee and Lady-,” Porcelet started.

“Bomb Bee,” Bloody Bug cut in.

“I would prefer Bomb Bee, please,” Adrien added.

Porcelet tilted her head. “Oh? Is something wrong with Lady Tigress?”

“Lady Tigress is Marinette,” Blood Raven said.

“Oh, hell no. We aren’t letting that bitch anywhere near Adrikins,” Gallic Chick said.

“Yeah, I have to agree. I’d prefer her not be near him… or me,” Porcelet said.

“Has she been bothering you?” Bloody Bug asked.

“Not exactly. Because of Chloe, she won’t get near me, but it doesn’t help that I can almost always feel her eyes burning a hole into me.”

“Maybe she should shift some of that focus on her own boyfriend,” Gallic Chick muttered.

Bloody Bug snorted and took the bee comb.

“Very good. Now, Bloody Bug, return the goat to me.”

“What? Why?”

“I will be giving you kwamis suited for handling Mayura if she goes primal for your amalgamation fusion.”

Bloody Bug sighed and returned the hair clips to Wang Fu. He bowed his head and took out the tiger, fox, snake, and mouse miraculous.

“You are to keep these with you until Mayura is defeated. You may unify with them, but never all together unless necessary. Understood?”

“Yes. Alright, team, let’s head out. Porcelet, Gallic Chick, take Adrien home. I have some errands to run.”

Gallic Chick and Porcelet nodded as they escorted Adrien out. Bloody Bug put on the new miraculous and turned to leave when Wang Fu held up a hand. She stopped as he pulled out a pair of elixirs.

“Give these two to the new members. We’ll need them strong to face Mayura.”

“Aren’t you worried about using them all up?”

“Oh, no. These are the easiest to make. It’s the other two that you won’t see me just passing out. Especially the final one, but let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that.”

Bloody Bug nodded and took the elixirs. She placed them in her yo-yo and headed off. She swung by Alya’s apartment and tapped on the balcony doors. A pair of young girls gawked at her when Alya ran out of her room. Alya hurried onto the balcony before the girls could join them.

“Bloody Bug! How can I help you?”

Bloody Bug held up the bee comb.

Alya gasped. “For real? You’re giving me another chance?”

“More than that. Carapace left the team. We need someone else to take his place. I need someone fearless that can stare down a monster before they toss it back to hell. Who better than you?”

Alya grinned and put the comb in her hair. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“That’s not all.”

Bloody Bug took out an elixir from her yo-yo and handed it to Alya.

“What’s that?” Alya asked.

“An elixir that will attune you to your kwami, making you stronger.”

“Oh, say no more.”

Alya took the elixir and downed it.

“Alright, be ready for whenever danger rises.”

“Wait, I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Could I maybe post some of my escapades on my blog?”

Bloody Bug sighed. “Fine. But if you out yourself, that’s on you.”

“Heard.”

“Good. I’ll see you later, Bee.”

Bloody Bug headed off to Liberty. She took a deep breath as she snuck into the ship’s hold. She glanced around until she saw Juleka sitting on her bed far across from her. They stared at each other until Juleka put her guitar down and hurried over. Rose and Luka poked their heads out before they joined her.

“What are you doing here like this?” Juleka asked.

Bloody Bug inhaled, then sighed. She pulled out the black cat ring and the elixir and held it out for Juleka.

“What… what is this?” Juleka asked.

“Juleka Couffaine, I’m entrusting you with the black cat ring as its temporary holder. Should you accept, this elixir will make you stronger like the rest of us.”

“Me? Are you sure? Surely you can’t be. This is just-!”

“Juleka, I’m serious. Chat Noir cannot be the black cat. It would be a terrible liability. With Carapace leaving the team and Porcelet admitting to being afraid, I need people unafraid of the terrors in the dark. Aside from Bomb Bee, you’re the only person I can count on to not shy away from the unknown and terrifying. It’s someone like you I need at my side until Chat Noir can return to being himself.”

“So, it’s just a temporary arrangement, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Do it, Jewel! You’d be an amazing black cat. In more ways than one,” Rose said dreamily.

Juleka and Bloody Bug exchanged glances before Juleka sighed.

“Ok, I’ll be your second, just don’t expect me to be a leader or whatever. I’m not exactly the leader type.”

“That’s ok. I don’t expect you to. And hopefully you won’t need to so long as I’m here.”

Juleka put the ring on and drank the elixir.

“So, when am I getting a miraculous?” Rose asked.

“Hopefully in time. Right now, I can’t say. Not with everything that happened.”

“I hope soon. Luka has one, now Jewel. I’m feeling a little left out. I can fight,” Rose pouted.

“More Juleka has one. Luka may have one in his possession, but he shouldn’t be using it.”

Luka pursed his lips.

“What have you done?” Juleka and Bloody Bug asked.

“Oh, uh, nothing big. Just, uh, used the power to enter the Burrow and, uh, talk to someone.”

“Dammit! Fluff!” Bloody Bug yelled.

“You called?” Fluff asked.

“Stop making paradoxes!”

“Rude! I haven’t made any recently.”

“So, you haven’t told Luka to go into the Burrow to speak with the other Harlequin?”

“Oh! No, yeah, I did do that.”

“Dammit, Fluff. Why?”

“I mean, who better to speak with Luka than that Harlequin? Besides, you making your own paradox helped you out, right?”

Bloody Bug pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve had enough here. I’m heading home. Look, I’ll be in touch if something comes up, ok?”

Juleka gave a thumbs up.

“And, Fluff? You give me a headache.”

Fluff giggled. “Welcome to my world. My head is a never-ending ache.”

Bloody Bug shook her head. “Whatever. I’ll see you all later.”

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Text

Forged Divinity Chapter 28: Leannan is Miserable

1401 words

CW: past institutionalized slavery, religious themes, negative self-talk

Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

Leannan spent the next two days wallowing in bed. Enjolras or Jeanette would come by occasionally to coax him into eating something, but otherwise he was left alone.

No punishment came. No balancing of the scales.

Everything was too much. The lies were too much. The books were too much. The fact that his sister didn’t believe in God was too much. The humiliation was too much. His new family was too much.

So he tried not to think about any of it.

Instead, he thought about Phineas.

Sure, if Leannan was human, then the way Phineas had treated him was wrong – but Phineas didn’t know that! As far as Phineas knew, they had been treating Leannan properly. Fairly. The worst thing they’d ever done to Leannan was something Leannan has asked for, no, begged for.

They listened to Leannan. Sometimes. And they were… funny, and protective, and possessive in a way that made Leannan a little giddy, and they’d saved Leannan so many times.

Leannan missed Phineas. He missed their presence, their smile, their authority, their ownership. He even missed being intimate with them. The realization brought tears to his eyes.

He’d never felt like this about a master before. Not even the good ones.

He fantasized about what it would be like to see Phineas again. He’d tell them about how he was actually a human, and Phineas would completely understand. But maybe Phineas would still like to be his master anyway, just to keep things in order.

Leannan had no idea what to do without a master.

Enjolras had made it abundantly clear, and Leannan had finally accepted it: she was not his master, and never would be. He was masterless, currently, and felt horribly adrift because of it. Leannan often had his own goals and interests, certainly, but those usually aligned with the goals and interests of his current master, or the aim of being sold to a new, better master.

He didn’t have high hopes for learning to live without one. The rest of his family had had twelve years to adjust. Meanwhile, Leannan had lived twelve years constantly relying on another person.

Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

He was a misfit here. He didn’t know how to play with the children, or handle the chickens, or milk the goats. He didn’t know how to… be the way the rest of them were.

Happy, maybe. They seemed happy.

Until they were around Leannan, anyway.

He combed over previous conversations and encounters, convincing himself that he had been constantly making people uncomfortable, disgusted, sad. How miserable it must be for them, to have finally gotten him home only to realize he was a fucked out whore who didn’t know how to live like them, how to be normal like them, how to be human like them.

All he’d done since arriving was ruin things.

Leannan spiraled.

~~~

“Okay, that’s enough!” Enjolras declared. She shook Leannan’s shoulder gently. “I’m on duty to help with lunch, and you’re coming with me.”

Leannan groaned and curled up tighter around his pillow.

“Do I have to?” he grumbled.

“You know what? Yeah, I think you do.”

Aisling was already getting things started in the restaurant kitchen when they arrived. She did a double take when she saw Leannan, but she smiled.

“Hey, good to see you!”

Leannan nodded, not quite looking at her. Enjolras nudged him forward.

“What can he do?”

“We’re reheating soup from last night, and making salad and a peach cobbler. The cobbler recipe’s on the table, or…” she hesitated, remembering that Leannan couldn’t read, “He can chop veggies for the salad.”

Enjolras nodded and went to work, setting up a station with a knife, a cutting board, and a bowl of washed cucumbers. She parked Leannan in front of it.

“Have at it!” she said brightly, and bent over the cookbook to figure out what she needed for the cobbler – but when she glanced up a minute later, Leannan hadn’t moved.

“Leannan?”

“I don’t know how,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing red. He looked like he might cry.

“That’s okay!” Enjolras assured him, “Let me show you.” She took his place in front of the cutting board. “Hold the knife like this, okay? And then you hold the thing you’re cutting like this, with your fingers curled under so that you don’t chop them off, yeah? And then you want to slice it… about that thick. Okay, you try.” She put down the knife and stepped back.

Leannan slowly picked up the knife, rested his hand on the cucumber, and sank the knife into it with hesitant, jerky motions. The slice that fell away was thick and lopsided. Leannan stared at it blankly.

“Okay, um… Hey, Aisling!” Enjolras called to the other woman, “Do you want to switch with Leannan? Let him stir the soup while you chop?”

“Oh, sure…” Aisling started to say, but Leannan burst into tears, dropping the knife onto the counter and pressing his hands over his face.

Enjolras deflated a little. She had been hoping that some honest work would pull Leannan out of his funk, and it was already backfiring.

“Leannan,” she spoke softly, “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I don’t – I can’t, It’s too hot in here, I can’t think!” Leannan wailed.

“Okay, that’s okay,” Enjolras took his shoulders and began to gently guide him away, “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

She exchanged a somber nod with Aisling as she steered Leannan out of the kitchen. They’d talked, the day after Leannan had burned the books – Enjolras and all the other adults on the island. Enjolras had been a bit more candid. Jeanette had filled in some blanks as well. What they had concluded was Leannan’s experience had been far worse than any of them could imagine, and worse than they might ever even know, and his mental state reflected that. They couldn’t punish him, nor could they force him to live like they did. They needed to give him space, encouragement, and love, and to understand that he wouldn’t always react the way they expected. It would take him a while to let go of certain things.

Enjolras sat Leannan down at one of the dining tables, and pulled a chair for herself up next to him. The dining room was completely empty, allowing them some privacy.

“What just happened?” she asked him, sitting down.

“I don’t know how to – how to do anything,” Leannan lamented between hiccuping sobs, “I’m not made for this, I don’t belong here.”

“Leannan, you’ve only been here for, what, four days? It’s going to take time for you to adjust, but you will, I promise.”

Leannan lifted his tear-streaked face from his hands, his cheeks red and snot running.

“But all I do is mess things up! All I do is make people miserable,” he choked out.

“That’s not true,” Enjolras said, putting an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him, “You don’t make me miserable.”

Leannan pulled his knees up and hugged them to his chest.

“I’m the oldest,” he sniffled, “For years I thought I was the youngest, and then that I was the only one, but now I’m the oldest, and I don’t know how to be like them at all! I don’t know how to be part of… a family. Or maybe I used to, and I forgot.”

“Leannan, it took everyone a long time to learn how to live outside Iowa City,” Enjolras said, “You’re feeling exactly what Aisling felt, what Shannon felt, Clary, all of them – nobody knew how to live free when they were first rescued. They had to learn, and they had to do a lot of it on their own, but you don’t! You have everyone here to help you, and everyone wants to help you. You just have to let them.”

“Do you believe in God, Enjolras?” Leannan asked unexpectedly. Enjolras took a moment to shift gears, but she answered.

“Yeah, actually, I do,” she said, “Not the God you were raised with, though, something a little different. A little kinder.”

“Why doesn’t Shannon?” Leannan whispered.

“That’s not a question I can answer for her,” Enjolras said, “How about…”

“Enjolras!” Clary popped up at the top of the stairs, “Radio for you!”

Enjolras frowned slightly.

“Now’s not the best time.”

Clary shook their head.

“It’s Phineas.”

~~~

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Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @thecyrulik

#posting it NOW because I WANT to #whump #whump fic #whump writing #forged divinity #cw slavery #cw religion #cw negative self talk

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alanadamoondemon-artblog · 3 months

Text

Sir Daniel Fortesque (Redesign / Reimagination " Reincarnation " AU)

Sir Daniel Fortesque, The Hero of Gallowmere, was known to be a legend for many centuries... But legends are often known to change details throughout the sands of time.

Daniel Fortesque, or simply referred to as " Dan " by his friends, was once a bard who would sing songs about his heroic feats, And he had told many stories about his achievements to the nobles for years. In truth, however... he did not do any of those daring adventures, nor did he have slain dragons. He is secretly a coward who is easily scared and that he doesn't have the skills to fight. The reason behind his boastful stories for he truly loved the attention and that he truly desired to be a hero, like the ones in the story books he had read as a child. Eventually, His fantastical stories would reach the King of Gallowmere and to be summoned by him. He was by all means terrified of what he gotten himself into and but he doubled down his lies and tells fantasy tales to King Peregin. The king had enjoyed the stories so much that he made him a knight and appointed him head of the Royal Battalion, which made Sir Daniel faint from the shock of being given such a high position. Thankfully, it was just an honorable post since the Kingdom of Gallowmere had never been into war for many centuries, and peace had thrived within the land of Gallowmere, so Sir Daniel mostly rearranged the castle guards and played croquet with the king but also had fallen in love with the astronomer's daughter which he vowed to marry her.

Sadly, that peace would not last forever when Zarok had returned. He was once a court magician who had performed his magic tricks for the King but was banished to exile when the king discovered that he started to tamper with dark magic and had learned the art of necromancy, Zarok had hated the kingdom's simple and peaceful ways that he had planned to unleash an undead army to take over Gallowmere. Zarok would declare war on Gallowmere, and it was up to Sir Daniel Fortesque to lead an army and to slay the tyrannical wizard. He was downright terrified, and he badly wanted no part of it, yet he refused to disappoint his king and reveal his lies. Sir Dan hoped that he would miraculously defeat Zarok and save Gallowmere like in the fairytale books, so he charged headfirst into battle with his army following him behind. Sadly, his life would come to a pitiful end when he was shot right through the eye by an arrow, and his army had to fight without him. The army had successfully defeated Zarok's army and saved Gallowmere but at a high price. None of the army had survived, and the evil sorcerer had escaped without a trace.

King Peregin was understandably disappointed by Sir Dan's failure to destroy the sorcerer, but he wanted to give hope to his people. Thus, He declared that Sir Daniel Fortesque had successfully defeated the undead army and slain Zarok before succumbing to his mortal wounds. Fortesque went down in history as the Hero of Gallowmere and songs are still sung that he spearheaded the charge deep into the accursed multitude and how demons fell before him like wheat before the scythe, the Kingdom were at peace once again and it seemed to last for hundreds of years. Until the sorcerer had returned to once again take over Gallowmere and raise his army of the dead, which he would mistakenly resurrected Sir Daniel Fortesque. He was gifted with a second chance of saving Gallowmere and living up to the legend, a second chance that he thought would never come.

----------------------------------------------------

Heyo! This is my first time doing a Reimagination on a piece of media I love and believes it deserves better. ^^

MediEvil is a very underrated video game series, and I am very fixated on Sir Daniel Fortesque and the neat Tim Burton like style it has. I love the first game and that I find the story pretty interesting, but the sequel isn't really good, for I have a lot of issues with the story and characters. I think they could have done so much better with MediEvil 2 and also the Reimagination MediEvil, eh it is somewhat interesting, but I think it had estrayed too far from the og game. The 2019 remake is pretty good, and I liked it the updated graphics and the cutscenes. However, the cursed official comicbook " Fate's Arrow " is what I truly hate because it is honestly worthless and that they butchered Dan's backstory and I hate that it involves time traveling for I think MediEvil shouldn't be involved with.

So yeah, I sincerely love MediEvil and that I want to give it my own take on the series by rewriting MediEvil 2 and possibly the comic book for it desperately needs an makeover. But yes, I'll be doing my own Reimagination on the series and to give it my own headcanons and ideas, but first I'll be doing the redesign on Sir Daniel Fortesque and rewriting his past life since I really disliked that they made his past self in the comic an irredeemable asshole and I refuse to accept that awful human design of him. And possibly with the other characters in the series like Zarok or the Heroes, who knows.

I will try to make the Reimagination to be faithful to the OG series and be as respectful to the characters, also to expect some OCs I would make for it ;)

#my art #Medievil #video game #Reimagination #Redesign #AU Reincarnation

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