#what about the people that want to hold on to things as they currently are?
Note
Aegon x sister!reader (maybe the child of Aemma) where she puts him on his place once and for all
Aegon Targaryen*Truce
Pairing: aegon x sister!reader
Word count: 2359
Warnings: arranged marriage, feud, teasing, mocking, aegon having a drinking problem, viserys being a shitty dad, swearing, talks of whores, aegon hitting on reader, angst with slight fluff at points
Masterlist Here
You hated your husband. He was rude and arrogant and a drunk and lazy and loud and egotistical and if the rumours were to be believed a whore. Aegon Targaryen was one of the most infuriating people you had ever met so when Rhanerya told you, you were to be married you screamed.
“You can’t possibly think I will go along with this! I hate him!”
“I know,”
“You know last time I saw him he told me I was prettier than all the whores in Kings Landing combined,”
“I remember,”
“And another thing-“
“Sweet sister,” Rhanerya stood from her chair to take your arms and stopping the pacing that had began to wear holes in the carpet, “You knew you had to marry eventually,” she said with a sympathetic smile.
You ripped yourself from her grip, “but to him?” you almost spat back, “What is father even thinking?”
“He’s thinking about the succession,” she said, her face morphing from concern to sternness as she began her lecture. It was one you heard a thousand times about duty and work and the crown. Rhanerya had gave you the lecture, your father had gave you the lecture, your aunts and uncles and lady’s and lords had all gave you the lecture. Maybe your mother too would have if she hadn’t died when you were so young. Even the queen Alicent had tried to give you the lecture.
-
There was no winning this argument. The debate was settled and no one heard your case. As your dear sister pointed out you didn’t even have one. You had been staying with Rhanerya in Dragonstone for some time but now it was time to return to Kings Landing.
“Daughters!” Viserys greeted with a warm hug and smile as you descended off your dragons back. “My sweet daughter,” he said, holding your hands gently, “I hope you are as excited as I am,” you did your best to smile back at him, nodding courteously to avoid another scolding.
-
“Boo,” Aegon whispered in your ear as he suddenly appeared at your back. you hated the way you jumped and hated more the way he sniggered, “How was the journey my dear, sweet, darling?” he said, moving to stand in front of you and meet your eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile.
You fixed an equally exaggerated one on yours as you spoke, “Wonderful my love. There was just one slight issue,”
“Oh, and do tell,” he said, swaying in closer, bending his head down in mock concern, “Your comfort is my top priority,”
You glanced over the full throne room which was currently filled with your betrothal celebrations. You turned back to Aegon once you were assured there was no eavesdroppers, “I never fell into the sea and drowned like I prayed for,”
You weren’t sure what the look that took over Aegon’s face was. Lust, anger, bitter hatred or sadness. It was all a mix behind his lilac eyes, “You’ve always had quite the humour my sweet,” he smiled bitterly before turning to face the room, “Quite the turnout, don’t you think?”
“Funerals tend to be popular affairs,” you mused before waltzing off into the crowd, leaving a now stunned Aegon behind to pick up his own jaw.
Aemond had only been a couple paces away when you departed and he was quick to join his brother’s side, “Must you always be a bother?”
Aegon snorted at his younger brother, “Please you didn’t even hear what I said,”
“So? I know you,”
“And?”
“I know you’re an ass,” Aemond said as casually as saying the sky was blue, “Try not drive your wife away before you’ve even wedded her. especially if you want any chance of bedding her,”
Aegon snorted, his eyes catching the floor, “Who said I wanted that?” he tried to say cooly.
Aemond leaned in to whisper in his ear, “The way your eyes are locked on her ass when she walks away,”
-
Luckily, you’d managed to avoid Aegon for the majority of the wedding lead up. Between catching up with past friends and mingling with prestigious lords you had little time for the creature. That was until tonight.
Viserys had decided there should be a dinner with his brother, wife, and all his children. You dreaded the whole affair, thinking how torturous it would be. However, you didn’t realise you would be getting off lightly.
While distant Viserys had always been kind to you at the least. he sent gifts on birthdays and said sweet even if hollow words. To Rhanerya, your older sister, he dotted on and to daemon he made jokes and laughed like old friends. However even you grimaced at the way he spoke to his sons.
To Helena he was kind though looked confused by everything she said or did or was. He barely looked towards Aemond and when he did you saw the shame behind his eyes. Anytime his attention turned to Aegon the boy seemed to shrink.
You had been sat next to your betrothed and in this time noticed how quiet he was. You were only two years older than him and always remembered when you were in Kings Landing together how he ran through corridors shouting and screaming as a child. You remembered the loud boasts he’d shout over the hall when you returned when he was a teen. However right now he was as quiet as a mouse.
Anytime his father looked at him he shrunk further into his seat and reach for his wine. The few comments Viserys made towards his eldest son had been lack lustre and cold. When Rhanerya asked about his achievements he would make jokes about the time he dropped a sword during a pretend dule.
“I was eight fathers,” Aegon tried to defend himself but when Viserys made another jib he just finished the wine in his cup instead of argue.
As Viserys and daemon laughed loudly, telling a drunken story from their youth to each other despite both being there at the time, you turned to Aegon, “Are you okay?” you whispered, so quietly only he would hear.
His eyebrow raised slightly, mostly in shock you spoke to him willingly let alone to ask him a question. A forced smile pulled on his lips as he slightly raised his cup, “I am drunk,”
“That’s not what I asked,” you whispered back, glancing back at the laughing older men at the other end of the table, “I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be,” Aegon whispered, draining his cup for what felt like the fifth time, “It’s not your fault I’m a screw up,”
You wanted to defend him but as you opened your mouth you heard an ‘oohing’ from the bottom of the table, “The love birds are at it,” Daemon announced, nudging his brother’s side with his elbow. Cackles came from them both and sympathetic smiles from the rest of the table.
-
By the end of dinner, the king was slurring his words and everyone else was exhausted. Aegon stood from his chair, stumbling slightly and earning a heavy sigh from his mother. “Perhaps the prince could escort me to my chambers? After all this castle can be a maze at the best of times,” you suggested to the room.
Your eldest sister was shocked, but Alicent was quick to usher you both away. As soon as you exited the room Aegon went to stumble and fall and without thinking you reached out to steady him, “Careful!” you chastised.
Aegon ignored your pleas and instead slung his arm over your shoulder. You grabbed his hand that was dangling far to close to your breasts for comfort and pulled it away. Instead, you linked your arm with his, “Well that was torturous,” he slurred as you walked the halls.
“Is he always such an ass?” you asked as you reached some dreaded stairs.
“Nah,�� Aegon said, shaking his head as he walked up stairs like a baby dear, “He stays away from me most of the time. First dinner I’ve had with him in what, four months? Maybe five actually. When was his name day again?” he asked.
“Nine months ago,” you said, and he clicked his fingers, nodding his head in affirmation before going quiet. “I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Why?” he asked as you approached the corridor to his room, “You’ve never done anything wrong. Even as kids you were always perfect,”
“I was hardly perfect,” you laughed, remembering all the antics you were involved in, “You were just overly naughty,”
“Its more fun that way,” he winked, a smirk growing on his face as he lent in. you pushed him away, but this time laughed slightly as you did. “Hey this is my room!” he said as you approached the door, “I was to escort you to yours,” he tried to walk past you, but you easily pushed him back with one hand.
“I think I’ll manage,”
“You sure?”
“Positive,”
“Okay,” he yawned, pawing at the doorknob before finally opening it, “Unless of course you want to sleep here,” he added as he stood in the doorway.
“I think ill pass,” you said, screwing your nose up at him though finding the drunken smile on his face oddly endearing.
That was until he kept talking, “C’mon sweetheart. You’ll be joining me here soon enough,” he said as his eyes tried to trail your frame.
Instead, you stepped forward, shoving his chest making him sway back far enough for you to grab the door handle, “Goodnight Aegon,” you sighed before shutting the door behind him and walking back to your own chambers.
-
You somehow saw even less of Aegon after that night. It was odd though. You actually found yourself looking for him in crowded rooms. “Is your brother alright?” you asked Aemond one evening as you stumbled across him in the library.
He looked up with a light smirk on his face, “why? Don’t tell me you’re becoming fond of him,” he teased making you let out a heavy sigh.
“No, I just wanted to make sure my betrothed wasn’t dead in a ditch or collecting diseases at a brothel,”
Aemond laughed lightly at that, “No not this time. He’s been in his room mostly. Don’t know why though. He wont talk much. He gets like this sometimes. Don’t worry though it will pass,”
“I wasn’t worried,” you said before turning to leave.
“You haven’t even touched a book yet,” Aemond called after you, but you ignored his teasing to find Aegon.
-
When you arrived at his room you knocked quickly but when no one answered you did it again but louder. A few moments passed before you groaned and checked the door to find it unlocked. You opened it without hesitation, “Who’s there!” a startled voice came from the sheets.
Aegon struggled to sit up for a moment as you closed the door behind you and placed your hands on your hips, “It’s been a week,”
“Hello to you too,” he sighed, flinging himself back into bed when he realised it was you.
You groaned as you walked over to him, ripping the sheets off his body as he yelped. You were thankful he was at the least wearing a shirt and his small clothes. “Are you avoiding me?”
“Is everything about you?”
“Do you always have to be an ass?” you retorted.
Aegon sighed as he finally sat up in bed, “Why do you care? You don’t even like me,”
Against your better judgement you sat down on the edge of the bed, “Well it looks like there’s no escape for me, so I better try,”
“Oh great, a pity conversation,” Aegon rolled his eyes, “How romantic,”
You couldn’t help it anymore. It had all been building up. The tears were pricking your eyes. You felt your hand slap his cheek and watched his face fill with shock. “I am trying,” you said, standing up and pointing at him as a few spare tears trickled down your cheeks, “I never asked for this and neither did you, but I am trying. You can’t flirt with me and check me out and expect me to fawn over you. I’m not some common whore and even then, they’re paid to like that kind of crap,”
Aegon’s face had softened slightly during your rant, but he soon fixed a distant look on his face. “don’t act so innocent. the first thing you did when you arrived is tell me you’d rather kill yourself than marry me,” You felt your shoulders slump at his words. “You always hated me,”
“Then stop giving me reasons too,” you said and as he went to sigh you cut his defences off, “Stop checking me out when I talk to you and undress me with your eyes. Stop going to the silk streets and visiting brothels. Stop making bitchy comments about me and stop pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. And for the love of the gods do it sober,” you ranted however when you stopped the room fell silent.
Aegon eventually broke it as his voice cracked, “Then what? You’ll love me?”
“No,” you said plainly but you returned to sit beside him on the bed, “But then we could be friends. Or at the least try. I don’t want to hate you Aegon, but you drive me crazy,” a small smile went on his face at the last line, “You enjoy making me mad,”
“Sometimes,” he confessed, his smile growing, “It’s funny when you’re mad,”
“Then I must be hilarious,” you joked, “So do we have a truce?”
Aegon paused for a moment before putting his hand out for you to shake, “Truce,” he said as you accepted his handshake, “So what is it friends do?”
You tilted your head at him, almost out of pity, “I don’t know. We could talk?”
“You always get annoyed when we do that,” he said making you huff. A grin spread on his face, “See?”
You rolled your eyes at the blonde, “I hate you,”
His grin widened, “For once I don’t believe that”
Taglist Sign Up Here
General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pigeon @andreaxxx44 @winterklls
HotD taglist: @qardasngan @randomstory56 @sashadevil766 @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @janii-722 @hypocritic-trash-baby @cookielovesbook-akie @theninibear @thirteenth-fangirl @amourfolklore @shinywhispersblizzard
#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon#house of the dragon preference#aegon targaryen#prince aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon imagine#aemond x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones#hotd#hotd imagine#aegon targaryen angst#aegon angst
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
My husband finally put into words for me something that has been the main problem with this whole Anti Gwynriel because of Gwyn's past narrative.
According to Anti's, it's not ok to ship Gwyn with Az because she's not healed enough and hasn't shown that she's ready for a relationship.
According to Anti's, fanart of Gwynriel in provocative positions are not appropriate because it's disrespectful to Gwyn due to her SA, that she needs to first give verbal consent before we're allowed to imagine what a HEA for Gwynriel might look like.
And at first, it almost feels like a gotcha for them because you question whether you're disrespecting real survivors by saying, "she doesn't need to give consent for us to ship them since it's a book." This statement is true, I don't think readers should be forced to abide by real world morals when it comes to possible paths a characters arc might take, however it makes you pause for a moment to question whether what you're saying is disrespectful to those who have been victims.
But he actually flipped that entire thing on it's head when he said, "if the issue is about consent, then why is only being applied to a SA victim? Shouldn't consent be applied to everyone?"
It was kind of a lightbulb moment for me because those Anti's never vocalize how it's wrong for people to ship Eris & Az, Mor & Emerie, Vassa & Lucien (SA victim), Lucien, Jurian & Vassa, the LoA & Helion (because at this point they are not a consenting pair), Nesta & Eris. There are a bunch of non canon, non consent ships in this series and nobody has an issue with those. Nobody takes up the crusade arguing that it's wrong for people in the fandom to imagine those pairings together or drawing fanart of them in NSFW positions. Most of the time they're celebrated but has Emerie consented to having a sexual relationship with Mor? All she did was call her beautiful and Feyre had done the same in ACOMAF. Why do they never call out fanart of that pairing? Or Neris after Nesta harshly rejected him? Where Eris is currently suffering torture at the hands of Beron and we've got no clue as to his sexual preference. Also, Elain only consented to a fully clothed kiss in the bonus (remember, she grew up with human morals which she still holds fast too, she didn't jump right into bed with Graysen), we have no evidence she wanted more yet there's plenty of NSFW E/riel artwork out there and I'm betting some existed before SF, before she even consented to a kiss.
The only time I've ever heard anyone argue for consent or argue against NSFW art is in relation to Az and Gwyn and the message they're sending is that only female characters who have been SA need to give consent before fans should be shipping them.
That's when the shipping agenda makes itself known because if no other non-canon / non-consenting pairing disturbs them to the point they need to create post after post surrounding how wrong people are for shipping them, then it's clear to see that it's only Gwyn being shipped with Az that they take issue with and when only E/riels make these arguments, it seems highly suspect.
Gwyn's SA is irrelevant in terms of consent because EVERYONE should have consent before engaging in physical acts with others no matter their past. However, Gwyn's SA should not be the weight dragging her character down, the scarlet letter on her chest that means the fandom isn't allowed to give her the same treatment that all other characters receive. Where we're free to imagine and create fanart / fanfiction / headcanons (even the NSFW variety) for any pairing that we desire, regardless of their past or preference, even those who have never expressed romantic interest towards one another, except for Gwyn.
Consent in the actual book will be important but consent having already been given in our imaginations so we can imagine possibilities beyond what is currently written is the right of any reader.
103 notes
·
View notes
Note
The first time Hob Gadling smells Morpheus Endless, he (Hob) had just shot someone in the face.
Hob tries very hard to be invisible. His job is to do various "tasks" for the Endless Organization. He is to be discreet and effective. And under no circumstances are his activities to point back to the Endless family and their (legitimate) dealings.
This is easy enough as an omega -- even in this current age, people still don't think omegas are "violent" or engage in acts that aren't fluffy and sweet. It's almost insultingly easy to be on the "wrong" side of trouble as an omega.
Hob is not the demure sort of omega. He'd just as soon punch an alpha in the face as purr for one. (When he must interact with alphas "like that," heats and such, Hob is fond of tying them down and riding them to his satisfaction.)
Morpheus Endless doesn't smell forgettable, like the rest of his family. He smells like Hob's favorite things, like home. Hob is going to make Morpheus his, and no one (even Morpheus himself) better get in his way.
Oh god, I LOVE a dominant omega.
Morpheus doesn't have much to do with his family's criminal enterprise - in the dynamic of the family, its his job to appear to the public as a perfectly legitimate philanthropist with an interest in art. But that doesn't mean he's not aware of how the money is really made. And it doesn't mean that he's not a target for rival organisations.
He'd found himself damn close to being kidnapped by some of Burgess's goons when Hob seemed to melt out of nowhere and silently, quickly and expertly shot the kidnappers dead. Then he quickly cut the zip-ties from Morpheus’s wrists and grinned. Morpheus - who would never usually even bother to speak to one of his family's "employees" - nearly melts into the floor with overwhelming lust for this dangerous, smiling omega.
Hob takes Morpheus to the nearest building owned by the Endless organisation and insists on checking him over for injuries. He practically straddles Morpheus while feeling his wrists for any damage, checking him for concussion, even scenting him to make sure that he's "calm enough". Morpheus is far from calm, actually. When he puts his hands on Hob’s waist his feels the holster that's strapped under his clothes and very much bulging with various firearms. Hob smells so dangerous and so good and all Morpheus can think about is fucking him...
But Hob makes it quite clear that he's not interested in a one night stand. Nor is he interested in parting as friends. He fully intends to make Morpheus his mate, whatever the consequences may be. Hob is very much used to getting what he wants, and he doesn't intend to give up. If he has to he'll tie Morpheus up and really kidnap him, take him away from his family and give him a mating bite so it's too late for anyone to object. He'll make sure that Morpheus puts a baby in him, if that's what it takes.
And Morpheus really doesn't need this kind of persuasion, but fuck if it doesn't turn him on. The idea of being taken by his omega is so arousing, he nearly cums right there with Hob just sitting in his lap.
Hob won't be purring any time soon, but he will certainly manage a contented hum a few months down the line when he's introduced to the rest of the Endless family as Morpheus’s mate. It's far too late for them to get rid of him, when he's already carrying a little Endless heir inside him. But he packed his favourite firearms, just in case. It does make Morpheus so horny when he sees his precious little omega holding a gun to somebody's head...
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Orion Called Cepheus 2/2
Prev
They had come in the Batmobile.
Jazz was tense as Batman drove toward Gotham; Robin sat by him in the passenger seat. He would turn his head frequently to look at Danny. Jazz squeezed Danny’s hand hard. She couldn’t believe Danny would go behind her back and call someone else who knew nothing about his current situation.
She couldn’t believe her baby brother would want to leave her for his biological family. Jazz glared at her younger brother from time to time.
He looked away guiltily each time.
Danny was doing this for her. Jazz deserved to have a normal life. To go to university. She shouldn’t have to be on the run with him. She didn’t need him messing up her life.
The trip to Gotham was silent.
Jazz didn’t even raise her eyebrow when a secret passage was opened randomly at a back alley. Damned rich people. She held on to Danny’s small hand as they exited the Batmobile. She ignored Batman and Robin and looked around the cave. People were sitting by a huge computer.
Everyone stared at Jazz and Danny as they got out of the car. Jazz got in front of her brother to shield him from their eyes.
A man in a black suit with a blue bird turning into blue stripes on his arms got up. She may not know all the Gotham vigilantes, but she recognized Nightwing. He had an easy smile, probably trying to make her feel more at ease.
It didn’t work.
“Hi, I’m Nightwing. Nice to meet you and Danny.”
Jazz didn't shake Nightwing's hand. After a few seconds, Nightwing’s hand fell to his side, and his smile became a little strained.
“Right, well, welcome to the Batcave.”
Nightwing’s welcome echoed throughout the cave.
Jazz ignored the people in the cave and took her brother’s hand.
“So, now what,” she asked.
There was no way in the Infinite Realms she would let some fruit loops take her younger brother away from her. She had failed him once and wouldn’t do it again.
She felt a tug and looked down at Danny.
“Jazz, can I talk with Damian? I’ll be right back.”
“No,” she wanted to scream, “you’re staying with me!”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
I’ll be here if anyone tries anything.
The silence got louder somehow the fainter Danny and Damian’s footsteps got.
“You’re not taking my little brother from me,” was the first thing she said. “You’re all strangers. I won’t let you take him away from me. He’s all I have!”
Jazz clenched her fists, ready to fight if she had to. She would take Danny out of the cave, kicking and screaming.
Batman put a gloved hand on her shoulder.
“We would never pull you two apart,” he said. His mask was off, and Jazz could see the sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn’t help it. She broke down crying.
Damian stared into the distance as his younger (now truly younger) twin brother told his story.
Damian tightened his hold on his sword’s hilt. He wanted to hunt down the Fenton’s and strike them down. For the first time in a long time, he wished he didn’t follow his father’s rules.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner, akhi? You knew I was Robin. We could’ve been reunited long ago; we could’ve been heroes together.”
“I didn’t want to bother you or father. And—and I was being selfish. I loved being in an environment where I didn’t have to fight to the death, where I didn’t have to kill. I’m sorry for messaging you now, but I need help…”
Damian hugged Danny, “Don’t apologize for calling me. I’m glad you did.”
“I want to be safe,” Danny sobbed, his little fists clenched, “I want Jazz to be safe.”
“I failed you the first time; I won’t fail you again, Cepheus.”
When the twins got back, Danny noticed Jazz’s red-rimmed eyes.
“Jazz, what’s wrong?”
“I won’t lose you, little brother. I refuse.”
“Jazz, you’ll always be my big sister,” Danny said, “but you deserve to live your life. Go to university, get your PhD. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me.”
“You’re my little brother, and I will always put you above everything else.”
“That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, with my father’s help I should be able to return to my real age. I hope.”
Damian cleared his throat.
“I am grateful for what you have done for Danyal. I will not seek to take over your role, but thank you. Father, my siblings, and I can care for Danyal from everything that would harm him. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
Jazz sniffed and took hold of Danny’s hands.
“Besides,” Bruce started, “there’s more than enough space here. You can stay for as long as you want. I can protect you and Danny from your parents. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Danny squeezed Jazz’s hand.
“I’m sorry for calling them without saying anything first, but Jazz, you deserve to live your life, too.”
Jazz looked at Danny’s young face and then at Bruce’s sincere expression.
“Thank you, I would like that,” she said while hugging Danny. Nothing would separate her from her brother.
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Birthday Wish | Jung Wooyoung
-> Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader
-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account.
-> Synopsis: Wooyoung surprises reader on her birthday.
-> Warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff I wrote for my birthday last year.
-> Word Count: 944
-> Requests: Open.
ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 woojoongstreasure - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead
Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.
“Happy Birthday, Jagiya!” Wooyoung screamed at the top of his lungs as he enters Y/N’s bedroom, interrupting the video call she is on with her friend who is currently overseas, working abroad for a year.
Having not heard him come into her room until he screamed, she jumped and spun around quickly to face him and scold him. “What the fuck, Woo?”
Instead of apologizing, he smiles wide, seeming proud of himself as he holds up the cake decorated with her favorite animal, which just so happens to be foxes, towards her and repeats what he had screamed a moment ago but this time more quietly. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you,” She sighs knowing she can’t be mad at the man who had stolen her heart the moment they met during their trainee days.
He places the cake on her top of her dresser, before wrapping his arms around her and placing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She scrunches up her face feeling the wetness against her cheek. Even though she should be used to his affection, after all the years of knowing him, her cheeks still burn red, heart racing.
“Who is that?” they hear, reminding Y/N she’s still on a video call with her friend.
“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath before picking up her phone, still wrapped in Wooyoung’s arms. “Sorry, it was just Wooyoung, coming to surprise me.”
“That’s Wooyoung?” she questions, causing Y/N’s cheeks to grow hotter as her blush deepens. Her friend on the phone is the one she always goes to when she wants to talk about him and her massive crush on him. She’s one of the two people who know about it. While Yeosang didn’t tease her about it, her only female best friend sure did.
“Hello,” Wooyoung leans on her shoulder, greeting her friend before she could properly introduce them.
“Hi,” her friend greets back. “It’s nice to finally meet you but I must go. Just remembered I have a few things to do. Make sure our Y/Nnie has a lot of fun today!”
“I definitely will!” he assures her.
“Good,” she smiles. “I’ll talk to you later, Y/Nnie,” she adds before ending the call.
Once the call is over, Wooyoung snatches her phone out of her hand and slides it into his pocket before picking up the cake and walking out of her bedroom without saying anything.
“What are you doing?” she asks, following him and sounding a little annoyed. “Give me my phone back.”
“Ya!” He growls and slaps her hand away when she tries to take it from his pocket. “You can have it back later.”
“But what if eomma calls me,” she pouts, glaring at him.
“I’ll talk to her,” he replies as they reach the kitchen. He puts the cake on the kitchen counter and turns to face her. “We both know that she loves me more.”
“Only because she doesn’t have an actual son,” she scoffs. She’s the eldest of three daughters. It’s her mother who always goes on about having no sons, unlike her sister who has four sons and no daughters. “And I’m pretty sure she loves Yeosang and Yunho more than you.”
He looks at her like she just offended him by suggesting he isn’t her mother’s favorite. He’d been the second to meet her mother, after Yeosang who’s known Y/N since they were babies, their families being neighbors since before they were born.
“If she wants an actual son, I’ll just marry you and make it official,” he says as he rummages through one of her kitchen drawers to find the matches she keeps for her candles.
Y/N freezes, her cheeks burning red even more than before, her heart thumping against her chest and her mind racing with thoughts that she’s unable to speak aloud due to not being able to speak at all in this moment.
When she doesn’t say anything, he looks at her, his face the most serious she’s ever seen it. “What do you say? Should we get married?”
“I uh... I,” her brain was malfunctioning as she tried to pull together a sentence that would make sense.
“I should probably take you on a date first,” he says more to himself as he lights the candle on the cake. He picks it back up and brings it over to her. She’s still standing there looking at him, stunned. “Make a wish,” he adds holding the cake up higher.
“Are you being serious?” she asks, finally able to speak even though her heart and mind are still racing. “You can’t say stuff like that if you-”
She’s cut off by Wooyoung crashing his lips to hers, stunning her even more. “I’m being serious. I’ve been in love with you since we met too,” he tells her, his beautiful deep brown eyes boring into hers, letting her know just how serious he’s being. “We won’t get married right away but I want you to know that if we start a relationship, I’m in it for life. That includes marriage, kids, and everything else that comes with it. Now make a wish.”
“I don’t need to anymore,” she tells him tell him before blowing out the candle. She takes the cake from him, putting it back on the kitchen counter, before pulling him in for another kiss. “I now have everything I could wish for.”
Before Wooyoung could respond, her phone lets her know she’s got a notification. He takes it out of his pocket and hands it to her. She unlocks her phone and finds a text from Yeosang.
‘Happy Birthday, Y/Nnie! Enjoy your day with Woo. Thank me later tonight.’
TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @treehouse-mouse - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea
@rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie – @hollxe1
@deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop - @trinxt
Blue means I wasn't able to tag you properly. Please check your visibility settings. If your tag is blue but you've received the notification please let me know so I can remove the colour and can continue to tag you.
#author: dancinglikebutterflywings#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung x reader#wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#ateez#ateez x reader#jung wooyoung fics#jung wooyoung imagines#jung wooyoung scenarios#jung wooyoung fan fics#ateez fics#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fan fics#wooyoung fics#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fan fics#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop fanfics#kpop fics
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
dr. feelgood - chapter twelve
pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader
summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss
warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, PTSD, choking, angst
word count: 3.7k
a/n: ask and you shall receive! I started doing my final proofing and got tired and decided to post so apologies for any typos, I'll fix them later lol. please enjoy this one and thanks for your patience!
series playlist
taglist sign up (for the people I'm currently tagging - please fill this out if you want me to continue tagging you!)
taglist: @tellmealovestory @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @charmedbysarge @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @aya-fay @differenttyphoonwerewolf @elizabeth916 @Buckyb-stan @normalgirlnextdoor @Hnnhbananananana @Sebastians-love @buckybarnessimp @samkickikc @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @starsm00n @mondaycomingdown @sebsgirl71479 @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @almosttoopizza @esposadomd @zannemes
series masterlist
It took exactly three seconds for Bucky to come to his senses. The gentle click of the door shutting brought him back to reality and he realized he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t pretend like his heart didn't skip a beat every time she came into the room. That every time she smiled at him, he completely lost his focus. She was all he thought about, day in and day out, even when he was avoiding her. He wanted a future with her. In fact, she was the first woman he'd ever met that he could see a future with. And he had messed it all up.
What hit him suddenly, as she walked out of the house, was that if he let her go, he was just bringing on more trauma. He would never emotionally recover from losing her. He would be stuck with his PTSD night terrors and would always live life wondering what if things were different. One of the lessons he learned in combat is that life is short and precious, and it shouldn’t be wasted.
“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled to himself. He flew out the front door, hoping he could still catch her before she took off. It was a monsoon outside, with water pouring down in buckets. He caught the headlights of her car flooding the driveway and he darted toward the vehicle without another thought. He didn’t waste time putting shoes on, running outside in just socks. While wet socks were one of his pet peeves in life, at this moment he didn’t care.
He knocked feverishly on her window before she could put the car in reverse. She was initially startled before she rolled down the window.
“What are you-” before she could finish her question, his hand was around her jaw and his lips were caressing hers. This was the last thing she expected, but she didn’t stop him, wondering if this was the last time she’d feel his lips on hers. He was dripping cold rainwater all over her and the seat of her car but she didn’t even care. She leaned into him, savoring the taste of his gin-coated lips.
He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, stealing the breath from her lips. “I’m not giving up on us,” was all he said.
That gave her the confidence she needed. This time she took the lead, placing both hands around his jaw and pulling him closer to her, smiling in between every delicate kiss.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered in between kisses and she reacted by holding him tighter and running her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us. I just wanted to protect you.”
She pulled away and nuzzled into his neck, “I know, I know Buck. It’s okay.” Their blissful moment was interrupted by the cheerful barking of a golden retriever. Bucky turned around to find Liberty running around in circles in the pouring down rain, sloshing through the mud.
“Well shit,” he chuckled.
“You leave the front door open?”
“Apparently,” he turned back to Y/N and gave her one more quick peck on the lips. “I better wrangle her up, Will you stay? I’ll meet you inside and we can talk?”
She nodded and laughed while he ran off after Liberty, sliding shoeless in the mud as he attempted to usher the dog back inside. Y/N was already half soaked from Bucky’s drippage so she easily made the decision to cut the engine and run inside. She captured Liberty’s attention as she ran to the front door and the dog darted after her. Once Liberty had followed her inside, she knelt down to give the dog some attention and to keep her inside. Bucky ran inside and shut the front door behind him, sliding ever so slightly on the hardwood floor. Y/N smiled up at him as she stood up and he returned her grin. As if on cue, Liberty shook off the moisture from her fur, completely coating Y/N and Bucky in more rain water and mud. They both started cracking up, laughing at both their disheveled states as the dog simply walked off to her dog bed.
Bucky stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her hips.
“You know, this look is kind of working for me…” he said, narrowing the space between them.
“Oh yeah? You into the swamp monster look?” she bantered.
“More like queen of the swamp,” he said, inching closer to envelope her lips in his. Her arms effortlessly wrapped around his neck and he pulled her in even closer, so her body was flush against his. They were cold and wet and muddy, yet there was no place they’d rather be. Bucky couldn’t believe he almost let this amazing woman slip beneath his fingers. He was savoring everything about her now: her smell, her taste, her touch. But what surprised him the most was how at ease he finally felt. The past few weeks, he’d been so tense. He was worried about Y/N, he wasn’t sleeping, barely eating, and just getting by an hour at a time. Now it was like he could finally breathe again. He didn’t realize what he was missing until he had her back. And now he never wanted to let go.
She started to pull back for a breath, but he wouldn’t let her, verbally expressing his dismay with a hummed “uh-uh.” She smiled and he kept her close, kissing her again and then moving from her lips to her cheek to her neck.
“Bucky,” she giggled. He loved hearing that sound and it just encouraged him more. “We should wash the dog before she spreads more mud around the house.”
“I don’t care about that,” he replied.
“But it’s Steve’ house and-”
“I will deal with Steve’s house later. Right now, I’m not letting go of you.” He moved in close again, seeking the soft touch of her lips. And she had no working defense mechanisms. She sighed into his mouth, loving the feeling of being back together with the man she’d been longing for over the past few weeks. But the logical side of her won over in the end.
She pulled away and Bucky shifted his attention to her jaw, planting kisses up toward her ear.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal…” she offered.
“Mhm,” he replied, opting not to part from her skin.
“If we take a pause to wash up the dog, then we can pick this up later. In the shower.” Bucky froze considering his options. They’d never shared a shower together and it was something he’d always wanted to do but they’d never had the opportunity.
He let out a deep sigh into her neck, “You’re killing me doll.” She gently scratched the back of his neck and kissed his ear, signaling that their make out session was over for the time being. Bucky walked over toward Liberty and effortlessly picked her up in his strong arms. As he walked toward the bathroom he called out, “You better be helping me with this!” Y/N smiled to herself and eagerly ran after him.
It took all four hands to wrestle Liberty into the tub and that was only the first step. It was fortunate that Bucky and I were already soaking wet from the rain because Liberty showered us in bathwater as she splashed around in the tub. It took us a minute to find a rhythm, with one of us rinsing while the other shampooed. After about thirty minutes, I pulled the drain plug and we pried Liberty out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel. Once she was mostly dried off, we gave her a bone which she happily curled up with in her dog bed.
I leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a quick moment to catch my breath, which didn’t last very long. Bucky approached with a smirk on his face and, without a word, swept me up into his arms.
“Bucky!” I called in surprise.
“Pretty girl,” he countered, awfully pleased with himself.
“What are you doing?” I protested, as he started ascending the staircase.
“We’re getting you cleaned up.” Bucky strode into what I assumed was Steve’s bedroom, and before I could argue, he opened the door to the master bathroom and I was speechless. It was spacious to the point where it could’ve passed for a health spa. There was a giant soaking tub next to a window, with tealight candles lined up on the windowsill. Accompanying the tub was an upholstered ottoman holding a tray of bath salts, luxury oils, scrubbing brushes, and any other things you might need during a soak. In the corner was a beautifully tiled walk-in shower, complete with a rain shower head and a built in ledge that could double as a bench. Along the wall was a long countertop, with two sinks placed in front of the giant framed mirror. Before I could take in anymore, Bucky sat me on the countertop next to the sink, like I was a child and he was tending to a scrape on my knee. He walked over to the closet and pulled out two, lush looking, sage green bath towels, and hung them on the silver towel rack that was placed by the entrance of the shower.
“This is…” I said, looking around the room with wonder.
“I know. Steve takes his self care very seriously,” Bucky joked. He turned the handle in the shower and the water started flowing through onto the beautifully laid tiles, mimicking the sound of the rainforest.
Bucky made his way back over to me and I wondered what his next move would be. I was happy to sit back and enjoy the ride of whatever he had in mind. His face hovered in front of mine, as he placed his hands on the counter, his thumbs so nearly grazing my thighs. I studied his face, waiting for him to lean in and kiss me again, so that we could pick up where we left off. Instead, he planted a chaste kiss on my cheek and exited my personal space. His right hand found its way to my thigh and he slowly slid it all the way down my leg, until he was gripping my ankle. He extended my leg and brought my foot up towards his mouth, using his teeth to nip the top of my sock and carefully pull it off my foot. He planted a sweet kiss on my big toe and then repeated the process with my other foot.
Then he moved to my hands, removing the rings and bracelets I had on and placing them carefully in a small bowl on the counter. His slow, calculated movements were turning me on more than I thought they would. As much as I needed to have him, I wasn’t going to rush through this. He removed my earrings, giving one of my earlobes a playful nip, before he pulled off my blouse, planting kisses from my collarbone down to my navel. He came back up to my eye level, but his fingers were already working on the button of my jeans.
“I might need your help with this one,” he said, as he pulled down my zipper. I leaned back onto the counter and lifted my hips, allowing Bucky to pull at the waistband and slide the jeans off my legs. I sat back upright while Bucky kissed his way up my legs, taking a little extra time when he reached my inner thighs. I could see the hunger in his eyes and I knew that this teasing must be killing him, but it would all be worth it. His mouth found my bra strap and took it in his teeth as he lifted up slowly and released it so it snapped back onto my skin. His hands worked their way up my love handles and met at the clasp of my bra.
“Ah ah ah…” I chided, shaking my head before he could continue. He gave me a confused look and I merely pulled at the hem of his shirt, “You are fairly overdressed.” He let me pull the shirt up and over his head and I tossed it across the room. He leaned back in, continuing where I stopped him but I simply shook my head again. I pulled the drawstring of his sweatpants loose and tucked my fingers into the waistband and he effortlessly wiggled out of the material, leaving him stripped down to my level, clad only in his boxer briefs.
“Happy now?” he asked, with a tilt of his head.
“Almost,” I smiled mischievously. He slowly closed his eyes and sent me a toothless smile, knowing what I was getting at. When he opened his eyes back up they locked onto mine like a wolf stalking its prey. It sent a chill down my spine and all I wanted was to feel his hands on me again. He placed two thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and easily pulled them down, stepping out of them and closer towards me.
“You have some catching up to do,” he growled. I smiled as he kissed me, this time with urgency. His hands were behind my back unclasping my bra with ease and it fell to the floor. He started kissing my neck as his hands ventured south and rested on my hips. It didn’t take him long to pull at my thong, and I raised my right hip up to aid him, and he happily accepted the help.
I felt a bit of a breeze and shivered briefly, as my nipples hardened slightly due to the cool air and Bucky’s fingertips. He noticed my momentary shudder and grinned into the kiss.
“Why don’t I warm you up a little,” he suggested, sweetly kissing my jaw before shifting his attention to my pert nipples. He took each one carefully into his mouth, giving them just enough attention and then continued on his journey, eventually kneeling on the ground. I hadn’t realized that’s what he meant, but I wasn’t going to complain. He gently pulled on my legs as a signal for me to come closer which I did. He ran his tongue up my sopping wet pussy to my clit and ran circles around the sensitive bud. My head fell back instinctively, missing the feel of his touch. He dove right into my folds, exploring with his tongue and forcing labored breaths out of me.
“Bucky…” I called, running my fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull him back towards me. He took that as encouragement and increased his efforts, shooting his eyes up to watch my reaction. I let out a soft moan and pulled on his hair harder, which he seemed to enjoy.
“Bucky, stop,” I softly commanded. He immediately stopped and pulled back, looking up to see if everything was okay. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you inside of me.”
He acted quickly, standing and collecting me off the counter with ease, and carrying me into the immaculate shower. The minute we stepped under the water, his lips were back on mine and I tightened my grip on his neck, pulling him as close to me as possible. My legs were wrapped around his torso and his strong hands were cradling my lower back.
“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered into my neck.
“Show me,” I challenged, feeling bolder. Bucky reacted immediately, pressing me into the cold tiles of the shower. I let out an exhale and he took that as encouragement. He expertly shifted my position so that he had a better angle to my entrance, all while keeping me secure. And then he thrusted into me and I almost came on the spot. A moan escaped my lips and Bucky picked up his pace, grunting into my neck.
“Fuck baby,” I let out, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer.
“This one might be quick, but I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t care, you feel so good inside of me.” He gave me a quick love bite on my shoulder and then gently returned me to the ground.
“Turn around,” he commanded, caressing my hips with his fingertips. I placed my hands on the shower tiles and bent forward as he pulled my hips toward him.
“You know me too well,” I smiled.
“Of course I know how my girl likes it.” He didn’t give me a warning when he entered me and I let out a squeal of pleasure. He gave my ass a smack before clutching my hips tighter and increasing his rhythm.
“You’re so wet for me, pretty girl. I’ve missed your tight little cunt.” He thrust in deeply and paused, wrapping his hand around my front to play with my clit.
“Ohhhhh…” He was pushing my every button and I was nearing my climax.
“Those noises are driving me wild…” He picked up his pace again and I let out another moan. “Now be a good girl and cum for me.” That was all it took to trigger my orgasm. My back arched and I leaned further into the tile to stabilize myself while Bucky’s hands kept his strong hold on me. It all seemed to happen so quickly, as I panted and tried to bring myself back down to earth.
“Wow…” I breathed through my satisfied smile.
“I second that.” He slowly retracted and took my hand. “C’mere.” He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I locked my arms around his neck and smiled up at him as he planted a few sweet kisses on my lips.
“That was amazing,” he said, connecting his forehead to mine.
“I know, we’re pretty good at that.”
“And we keep getting better.”
“You think it’s because we’re in love now?” I suggested.
“It has to be that,” he said, kissing my nose. “Also, I didn’t pull out. I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”
“It’s okay, I’m on the pill so we should be fine.”
“I won’t do that without checking with you ever again.”
I placed a hand on his cheek and said, “I said it’s fine.”
“I know, but I still should’ve asked your permission.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Now can we get clean and spend the rest of the night cuddling?”
“We can do whatever you would like my dear.”
Once we finished up in the shower and dried off, Bucky lent me the T-shirt he packed and he put on a pair of sweatpants. We curled up together on the couch and turned on a rerun of Bar Rescue.
I rested my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me and kissed my temple.
“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”
I tilted my head so that I was looking at him, “Happy.”
“That’s what I love to hear.”
“All because of you,” I smiled.
“Ah, can I bring something up at the risk of ruining the moment.”
“I don’t think anything could ruin this night for me. Unless you break up with me.”
“Well I’m never doing that. But I do think we should talk about that night.”
“Oh. Okay,” I shifted so that I was facing him, giving him my undivided attention. He collected my hands and held them tight in his.
“I know you said you pulled me out of the nightmare, but I don’t want to put you in that position again. It might not work next time. So I’m going to start up therapy again. It did help me a lot before and I only stopped going when I thought I had things under control. But I think it might be more of a lifelong thing.”
I nodded, “I think that’ll be really good for you.”
“It’s really hard for me to ask for help, but I do think it’ll make things better.”
“And I’m happy to go slow as we figure everything out. I want to make sure you feel comfortable with things.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to go slow. I’ve finally got you where I want you. But I can’t let that happen again.”
“We’ll ease back in. No sleepovers for a few weeks.”
“Well I’m not agreeing to that,” he smirked.
“What!?”
“I want to fall asleep next to you every night.”
“Yeah but-” I started to protest.
“I think we can start with staying at your house. It’s not my space and I don’t think I sleep as deeply because it's a different environment than I’m used to. Plus I’ve stayed over your place a handful of times and never had any issues.”
“Are you sure?’
“Positive,” he stated.
“Okay, we can start there and see how it goes.”
“I still want to have a back-up plan for you though. Maybe stash an air horn or something by the bed just in case. I’ll come up with something.”
I chuckled lightly, “I don’t think an air horn is going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Do you want to know what I did the first time?”
“I am curious actually.”
“First, I placed my hand on your cheek,” I announced as I demonstrated. “Then I slowly pulled you in closer,” He moved with my hand until his forehead was pressed against mine. “And then I did this,” I gently brushed my lips against his and he sat there stunned.
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he commented with a small smile on his face.
“I thought if I fought back you would only push harder but that affection might confuse you.”
“And it worked.”
“It didn’t really confuse you, though. It sort of…calmed you. You curled into me and fell back asleep.”
Bucky looked a little stunned as he considered this, “Smart. That was very quick thinking.”
“That’s why I’m in trauma.”
“I’ll give you that. But I still want some sort of back up plan in place.”
“Well I will let you think on that and come up with a plan because you probably know better than I do on this matter.”
“I can do that. So until we have a back up plan, no more sleepovers.”
“That’s fair.”
“Tonight I’ll let you sleep in Steve’s room with Liberty and I’ll take the guest bedroom.”
She wanted to protest, badly, because she couldn’t imagine leaving his vicinity. But she chose to respect his wishes. For now, she nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder and entangled her legs with his, enjoying every second of being in his presence.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
the romance of an alternate universe
to think that you can imagine a different world so easily beyond this one, if only to pacify, if only to forget. the bittersweetness of your joy in another world where little currently exists here. the longing that doesn't come away empty handed because there, she likes you, trusts you, has no reason to ever question years of friendship and the traces of more.
you only have the one life here, in this one, in this universe, in this timeline, in this moment and that's all.
but the possibility in others, even in just one other, is enough to make you hope that things here will eventually blow over better for you.
knowing the existence of alternate universes, having traveled to them, aches inside your chest because there, your dreams are real. there, your heartbreak is soothed. there, she does not regard you with hatred, disdain, anger, disappointment, heartbreak. there, you did not commit mistake after mistake, each one chained to one another until in the end, you come away with cuffs that lock you, an imprisonment of your own design.
maybe you consider moving to an alternate universe, weighing to suffer the consequences of your choice there instead of here. because it beats being here, it beats having ruin and ashes as the world you live in now.
your friends and family won't understand. they can't understand. all your good intentions remain good, but your impact have been nothing but disastrous.
certainly the rogue alien pummeling you into the rooftop of her tower doesn't understand. but maybe he's traveled here from an alternate universe of his own. and he's just trying to get away. that, you understand.
despite the blood and grime all over you, you wrap your arms around his neck and you don't let go--he's a growing tidal wave as he attempts to rid himself of you. but you hold onto him, locking your limbs around his back, and you don't let go. if there's one thing you'll do right today, it's defeat him.
the rooftop doors open and you see her. she is so beautiful today. and you, bloodied and aching, are exhausted.
you cannot read what her eyes or face are showing--might be the pounding headache and blurred vision on your part. but she is still looking. and it's more than what you can say for the last four miserable months of your life.
you think you hear her say your name, but you're not sure. you don't want to get your hopes up.
he's punching your side and you just tighten your hold around his neck which only pisses him off more. well, get in line, buddy, you're not the only one.
agents rush out to surround your duel with him, and you hear your sister command this small army that has circled you. her appearance just means that you have to hold on even more knowing that one wrong move and you're endangering two people you love.
this alien has just about had enough of you, and you can't agree more, so you try to subdue him by using what remaining energy you have to deliver an unconscious blow, but he gets a hand on your ankle and yanks you off of him before slamming your body down onto the concrete. a crater with your name on it.
there are muffled gasps and you hear your sister order for agents to attack and he wails above you in anger as specialized bullets hit him. his massive hand grabs you by your emblem and he pushes you into the ground, your lungs fighting to breathe at the heavy weight. your hands paw at his wrist to push him away, to no avail. your powers are waning, your energy is zapped, you really are so very tired.
when you look up, there is surprising calm in his onyx eyes despite the rumbling storm around you.
and you think this might be it for you.
you expect pain on the final blow but instead of pain, your body is heaved forward and into nothingness, the weight of his hand on your chest now acting as an anchor.
you hear your sister call for you. but you also hear her, her piercing scream cutting through your consciousness. there is panic, there is worry. for you.
and then they’re gone.
and so are you.
only to open your eyes in the exact same place as before underneath the exact same sky. except there are no agents. there is no rogue alien. there is no sister.
but there is her.
tentative, frightened, curious. she is looking at you and you are looking at her and you realize she is not who you know. and you wonder if the crushing weight on your chest is a phantom pressure from the rogue alien who was seconds away from killing you.
she is kneeling beside your body that's still stretched out flat on the ground. and she is looking at you with just so much.
and she is saying, “who are you?"
and you.
you begin to cry.
#samficlet#samfic#supercorp#i mean listen when i have things to do that are due soon#i end up doing literally not that#so here we are#anyway sad rift vibes as a treat#but also potential universe hopping#maybe i will write more of this#maybe i never will touch it again#who just really knows ya know#supercorp fanfiction
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking out loud here, but... now with all of the beyond episodes out, i'm starting to wonder if the goal is to actually return to vale for the final battle.
for one, the final battle of the great war that lead to peace happened in vacuo, exactly the kingdom everyone is in currently. that's where the preparations are happening, that's the kingdom that everyone is primed to defend. but what i also find interesting about the great war battle is that the king of vale arrived with what are very likely to be the sword of destruction and the crown of choice—exactly the relics salem currently doesn't have.
then there's 'boba' and the very on-the-nose way of pointing that tai is doing something important in vale / patch that prevents him from being in vacuo. and like. it's the crown, right. or specifically, the vault that houses the crown; the whole point of the academies was to house the vaults that house the relics so that they would be surrounded by people capable of defending the academies at all times. and if the vault isn't at beacon—which is likely because salem hasn't found it yet, and at haven cinder points out how that vault looks way cooler than the one in beacon so what's the extra effort for, and i get the feeling it's not so much that any extra effort has gone to haven's vault, but rather that beacon's "vault" isn't really a vault to begin with—then obviously ozpin wouldn't leave it completely unguarded, but it also must be done discreetly as to not give the game away; and that's where tai comes in.
and because they made it so apparent in 'boba', it doesn't sound like a thing that's going to get addressed once they're done in vacuo and are ready to move back to vale, it sounds like it's imminent, something teased for V10 if / when it happens.
the king of vale had the sword and the crown. the resistance in vacuo is still in possession of the sword so that's accounted for, but getting the crown is a trickier problem to solve (if they're going for "ozma's side has the crown and the sword (like the king of vale did) while salem has the lamp and the staff" angle here).
enter 'the adventures of somewhat'. somewhat, in their cloak reminiscent of ruby's, talks to the red prince, who still has the scar on his face.
the red prince's purpose is to win the game. cinder holds the key to their victory. the red prince has sent all his followers away. cinder no longer has emerald and mercury by her side.
the red prince promises to help somewhat in their task if they beat him in the game. his purpose is to win that game.
"that doesn't seem very fair. what if my purpose was to win, too?"
"such is the way of our life."
"what if it doesn't have to be? i'm still new here, but i've met loads of afterans and people that have grown and found new things to do, even without going to the tree."
what if they don't need to be enemies locked in a battle they both want to win. what if it could be different: "who knows, maybe you could teach others to win. speaking of, i won! i think? i'm sorry."
with this little, simple conversation, somewhat left a somewhat of a big impression on the prince; and while he didn't join somewhat to keep his promise of helping them (that we saw of), he also dropped the tree leaves he could use to ascend.
and there was one less wrong thing in the ever after.
cinder holds the key to salem's victory. could she hold it for someone else—"maybe you could teach others to win"? could ruby get a chance to talk to cinder in the same way somewhat did with the prince, leaving an impression that gets cinder to change her mind? what if they don't need to be two enemies, pawns on a board, locked in battle?
the red prince promised to help if somewhat beat him in the game. they did. and i think this is something that might just happen with ruby and cinder too, and that's how the vacuo resistance gets hold of the crown.
all they need is a small team to head to vale to retrieve it, return to vacuo, and the grand stage of the final battle of the great war is once again set.
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧
Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible
He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.
They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.
The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.
Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...
The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.
They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.
"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.
He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.
Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.
He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.
But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.
But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.
A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.
"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"
The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.
He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."
There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.
What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.
It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.
"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."
#bg3#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#enver gortash#gortash x reader#lord enver gortash#gortash x durge#durgetash
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
stwg prompt (27/4/23) - buzzed hair/shaved head
wc: 1076
🩵
Wayne hasn’t been feeling too confident in his looks, lately. Usually he doesn’t care, but when he looks at Eddie, he wishes he still had hair like that. Every so often in Hawkins a new person gets the “hair” nickname. Currently it’s Steve Harrington, Eddie’s friend — or more than a friend, Wayne’s not too sure — and it reminded him of when that used to happen in Tennessee too. When Wayne was in highschool, he was “the hair.”
He’s surprised he hasn’t died yet from the fumes of hairspray finally catching up to him, but the smoking will do that someday. All the products he used to use, all the times at school when the girls would come to him for hair techniques… All of that is gone now, and so is his hair.
A slight sob catches in his throat as he runs his fingers over what’s left of his hair. What’s left of his hair… Nothing much. It’s gray and white and barely there now. But he can’t let go of his highschool days. How the hell is he supposed to go back out into the dating scene without his long, luscious locs to help him?
He hasn’t dated since then, hasn’t had the courage or the confidence. Even when he still had his hair, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a girl out.
Some people can take up addictions to help with loss and grief, but if he were to tell anyone he’s a smoker because it helps him deal with the stress of losing his hair and not being “attractive” anymore, they’d laugh at him, make a joke out of it. There’s only so many jeers and snide comments he can take before he drives back home and cries himself to sleep.
He’s been doing that a lot lately, hoping his pillow muffles it enough so Eddie can’t hear. But Eddie can’t exactly hear anything outside of his room when he’s blasting that goddamn metal. Not that it’s bad or anything, Wayne likes it too, sometimes, but only when it’s not at an eardrum-shattering volume.
Today is the worst of it, the worst he’s felt in a long ass time about his looks. But there’s no point in buying a wig or trying to grow it out again because anyone who knows him already knows what he looks like without it. So there’s no point, and he won’t bother.
But maybe having hair might help him feel better about himself? No, it takes too long to grow out and he sure as hell knows nothing’s gonna grow on the top of his head anymore, maybe the sides, but that’ll look ridiculous.
So he doesn’t bother.
It’s only in the evening when he’s starting to feel a little better and has stopped crying. But not for long… because as he walks to the bathroom, the sound of a hair trimmer buzzes to life and someone’s laughing quietly to themselves in the bathroom.
Eddie.
It’s Eddie.
Half of his— what the fuck?
“What in the goddamn hell are you doing, son?” Wayne exclaims, watching as another few strands of Eddie’s hair fall into the sink. “Wha— Eddie! Put that damn thing down!”
Eddie does, in fact, not put that damn thing down and continues shaving. Strand after strand, his smile grows wider, and he looks at Wayne’s reflection in the mirror.
“Hair grows back,” Eddie says with a half smile. “I did it for you.”
“Why?” Wayne can't stop the tears from falling now, they gather in his lower eyelashes and drop down onto his cheeks.
“Because I want you to know that you’ve still got it. With or without hair. You’re a handsome man, and if anyone disagrees they’re obviously blind. You don’t need hair to be handsome and I don’t either.”
“You’re crazy,” Wayne says, laughing a little.
“On the contrary, I’m a genius,” Eddie says with another smile. “And I’m also doing this to help my friend, Jane. A bad man shaved her head and she hasn’t been feeling confident, says she looks ugly without hair. But she doesn’t. You look handsome without hair, she looks beautiful without hair, and Jim Hopper looks hotter than ever without hair.”
“Boy, don’t you dare tell me you’ve still got a thing for Jim.”
Eddie stays silent. Wayne frowns.
“What?” Eddie says, holding his hands up. “You gotta admit he’s hot.”
Wayne tuts. “He’s old enough to be your old man!”
“So?” Eddie smirks. “I’m legal, he’s legal…”
“He’s also married!”
Eddie gasps. “Jim and Joyce got married?! Why wasn’t I invited?!”
“I don’t think they’d want you jumping up on the tables at the reception, son,” Wayne replies, turning off the machine for him.
“I don’t— Oh… You’ve got a point.”
“I’ve got a point and no hair.”
“Me too!”
“No, I was right, you were wrong, son. I have the point.”
Eddie shrugs. “Alright, fine. You win. But he’s still ho—”
“No, not finishing this conversation,” Wayne interrupts, backing away out the door. “Be with someone your own age, like Harrington’s kid. I see the way you look at him and he looks at you—”
“And I’m not having that conversation,” Eddie replies.
Wayne snickers, starting to feel like himself again.
“No. Wayne, no. I don’t… I don’t like him like that! We’re just friends.”
“Mhm mhm.”
“Wayne!” Eddie whines. “Stop!”
“Son,” Wayne says, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Just try.”
“Okay fine, I’ll only do it if you ask Claudia on a date.”
“You want Dustin to be your brother, huh?” Wayne’s smiling again, so is Eddie.
“If I ever have an argument with Steve over who Dustin’s favorite is I wanna be able to say it’s obviously me ‘cause I’m his brother,” Eddie says. “But no, that’s not the only reason. You wanna find love, right? At least try. The worst she can say is no.”
“I’ve got better things to be doing than—”
“Remember the deal? You said—”
“Alright, fine!” Wayne throws his hands up. And he wonders where Eddie gets his dramatics from… “I’ll ask her on a date.”
Eddie fist pumps the air. “I love you!” He barrels Wayne into a hug.
Wayne smiles again, and finally, he feels like maybe he can still be handsome without his hair. He’s gonna remember this day for the rest of his life, maybe even add a part about it into his wedding speech if things with Claudia go well.
#stranger things#eddie munson#wayne munson#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#a litta bitta steddie and wayne x claudia
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
„I hope, I’ll always have you in my mind, so that I know to find you every time.“
„Put your head on my chest, that’s your safe place. We‘ll fall deeper in love every day. From life unto life and for always.“ („Soul Mate“ by Flora Cash)
There’s something in my current life, that came hand in hand with my disease ME/CFS…slowly creeping into my fibres…infecting my mind with sadness. It’s loneliness, that I’m talking about. Overwhelming, crushing, suffocating loneliness.
Before this cruel bitch of a disease put a stopper in my life, as I knew it from before, I haven’t been healthy, either. But neither my severe Colitis Ulcerosa, nor the other few sicknesses and disabilities had achieved to break me the way, ME/CFS broke me!
What’s left, is only a shell of myself…a sad shadow of the woman, I’ve been prior to today. Where did the intelligent, sassy, witty and caring person go to, when she disappeared so insidiously from my personality? On some days, I still get a little glimpse of her, when I’m talking to my beloved friends @vulnus-sanare, @preciousthelmadonna or my bestie Miri, who often just “enjoys” sitting beside me in my dark room…embraced by silence and darkness. These tiny jiffies, when I’m recognising my previous character…my true nature, even though it’s only for a brief time, I’m feeling a little less anxious…a little less worthless.
But sadly, these moments become more rare with each new PEM crash of my disease (PEM = Post-exertional malaise = worsening of symptoms after certain activities). It feels as if I’m fading away from life…I’m fading away from other people’s lives as well as from my own.
Since I can’t leave my dark room - and most of the time even my bed - I’m not capable of joining social gatherings anymore. It’s impossible for me to endure listening to more than one person at once, so even my three kids have to “visit” me one after the other in my chamber. There are days, when I can’t even reply to messages from others, just because screen time is killing me.
All the more, I’m grateful for these few friends, who stay with me, no matter how silent I am, because they make me feel worthier and loved. And yet, I’m afraid of not being able to give them the same amount of support in return…due to the restrictions of my cruel reality, which are confining me.
So, there are many days, which I’m spending in total gloominess and silence with nothing but solitude surrounding me. And even if I’d be capable of sending text or audio messages (since I can’t type them out properly sometimes), I often hold myself back from reaching out to these understanding friends…only because I don’t want to be a burden to them.
I commissioned the lovely artist @hannisimp for this beautiful piece of art. Lin, you gave me exactly, what I needed with this tender artwork of yours. You gave me the feeling of being less alone. Severus accompanies me for 21 years now. He’s the safe haven, the comfort blanket, which I’m clinging to so desperately! My dear, I can’t stress enough, how grateful I am for your fine art. You made the love and the trust between Severus and my - oh, so self-inserted - OC Jules become palpable. There are no words to express my gratitude, so I just stay with these: Thank you for everything, my friend! Thank you for your talent, your kindness and each of your messages. I won’t ever take these things for granted.
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
#Severus x Julia#Sevy x Jules#severus x oc#fuck me/cfs#commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism#this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom#I‘m so fucking lonely#loneliness#severus snape#i love snape#he’s by my side for 21 years now#21 years and still counting#snape#i love severus#pro snape#snape love#i would protect him with my life#snape content#pro severus snape#severus snape art#snart#severus fanart#severus snape fan art#snape art#mecfs#writing is my coping mechanism#snapedom
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have thought on Jadzia Dax from Star Trek Deep Space 9.
I'm currently rewatching the show (midway season 2), probably my 4th watch through over 8 years? My first time with slightly more youtube-essay-driven media analysis skills. I'm enjoying picking up on a lot more things than I used to but there's one thing that bugs me above all else.
Jadzia Dax doesn't really have a strongly defined character that shines through.
I've spent a while thinking about it. Obviously as a science officer its a little harder to tell stories the audience can understand and relate to compared to Odo's murder investigating or Sisko's exasperated diplomacy, but her stories have issues greater than that.
Both the stories centred on Dax, in season 1 where she stands trial for a crime supposedly committed by a former host, and in season 2 where someone tries to steal her symbiont, are about things that happen to Dax. Not the things Dax does. She is neither the perspective character through which we can see the world of Star Trek, with her own unique views and feelings, nor is she the one actively moving the plot forwards. She's either the victim who sacrifices herselr or quite literally refuses to do anything. Unfortunately this is quite a common failing of writing that's easy to fall into, writing about a character instead of the character making decisions that drive the plot. Its one that sci fi writing at the time seemed to do quite often with a lot (but not all) female characters. Ivanova and Talia from Babylon 5 fall victim to this too, especially in early seasons. In contrast, Major Kira, and even Ezri Dax later on have stronger characterisation and are the centre of their own stories.
I doubt this was intentional, its clear through the successes of writing other characters in the show that the writers, actors, and showrunners are trying to make everyone alive and meaningful, so what went wrong?
Looking at Jadzia Dax's character, I think what's clearly missing is a strong drive for her character. No real desires or vulnerabilities. No questions either. To provide constrasting examples:
Odo (who gets almost too much screen time in season 1) is clearly driven by a sense of justice no matter whatever starfleet rules say. He's in constant conflict with Quark, ever vigilant, somewhat isolated from other people. No one ever asks "Why does Odo do what he does?" His motivations are clear, and they even tie it up with an extra motive that's very plot relevant: the mystery of where he comes from. All things a single episode writer can use and explore.
Major Kira has her own conflict with starfleet, her desire to do right by her own people, to get justice for Bajor, and always stand up for the underdog which creates really good stories as she struggles with her own values and constantly has to make choices that affect the story.
Bashir wants acclaim, accomplishment, romance, and also for everyone to like him. Quark wants profit without putting himself at risk. O'Brien wants to just do his job and go home to his family. Sisko wants to hold everything together with the responsibility of peace and reason on his shoulders while singlehandedly raising his son. Jake wants community, friends, and freedom in his life. Funnily enough Ezri Dax has far better drive. Trying to figure out what she wants in life, handling this enormous change and overwhelming personality, and her own lack of confidence that she's useful to anyone sometimes. She grows and changes more over the course of a season than we ever see in early seasons Jadzia.
What does Jadzia Dax want?
I think in attempting to make a wise 300 year old person who's seen everything, they accidentally wrote themselves into a corner. Jadzia has no strong motivations to do much at all. She does fine as a secondary character, and I love how her friendship with Sisko plays out on screen, but beyond being surprisingly enlightened about a lot of things as the result of age and experience there's no drive there.
And so no drive or motivation, and no stories told from her perspective. We have ourselves a problem.
I thought for a while if I could find a solution to the issue rather than just offer criticism. I originally tried writing an outline for an episode. Jadzia would be a fantastic protagonist for any wacky sci fi short story concept that required a scientist to explore, such as time travel paradoxes, simulations, weird space anomolies that do "plot relevant thing" that she would be perfectly posed to actually explore instead of "technobabble and tap console" until the problem is solved.
Then I decided that all we really needed to have a framework any writer could use is to establish a strong character motivation for her. Here's my shot at it.
Jadzia Dax, in harmony with seven lifetimes of experience, is an extremely competent twenty seven year old woman. She can almost certainly do the job of anyone on the station better than they can. Fix a computer? Better than O'Brien can. First aid? She's there and solved the issue before Julian can get there. Solve a murder? A past host was an invesigator of course she can to Odo's chagrin. She has better ideas of what Sisko can do to bring the Bajorans towards the federation. Hell she's the best representative of federation values on that station and could constantly be presenting that of the story.
Dax struggles to hold herself back when she sees her friends failing at what she can solve the problem for them. She tries not to, that's what her training tells her to do. But out here on the edge of Federation space where there's constantly lives on the line? She finds herself interfering in other people's work more and more often. She just doesn't want it do be done wrong. She pushes herself hard to do too many jobs. She doesn't sleep or eat enough while telling everyone else to take care of themselves better. After a while people start relying on her. It turns from her helping to her having those responsibilities. Pilot. Diplomat. Linguist. Researcher. Mechanic. Leader. So much emotional support for her friends because everything they're suffering she's been through herself. It becomes too much for her and you could make the core of one story her just crashing. Learning how to balance her experience with giving room to other to shine through and solve their own problems, which they're very capable of doing. There's plenty more detail to elaborate on but I think this gives a core drive and conflict that lasts a character a couple of seasons at least to explore and grow through.
I happily invite thoughts as to whether my original observations are astute, or wether you think there aren't any problems with how Jadzia's passivity plays out in the show. If you think there are problems, do you think my perscribed solution helps fix them? How would you go about it?
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Why do I keep disappearing into fantasies and stories about fictional characters? When will I become happy and stop reading them to feel at least a drop of warm emotions?
Perhaps the life you’re in now isn’t fulfilling and stimulating enough? Maybe it’s better in your head.
When I was my most depressed I always stayed in my head. If I wasn’t asleep I was far away in my mind doing anything other than addressing the reality I was physically in.
There are signs here on the river banks warning people to stay away when it rains. Because even though you feel safe on the grass, it’ll become slippery and you can slide into the raging waters of the river and drown.
Fantasy can be like that for us who are lacking things in life. We’re on the grass, a safe distance from the depressive and consuming currents. But we’re just a shifting weight from falling down the hill.
From my personal experience, I had to fake those warm emotions in myself before I could even try to find it elsewhere or even actually make it myself. Before I could escape the allure of fantasy.
If I’m going to spend all day in my room then I made it feel like somewhere worth being in. If I’m going to be alone I want to enjoy my company, so I took time to try and dress like someone I’d be happy to pretend to be. Whether it meant trying harder to accessorize or just meant washing my hair that day and brushing my teeth. I made up things to be happy with, I romanticized the otherwise unappreciated things. I’d take myself to the beach or on long walks in safe places. Id get a hot chocolate and hold it with both hands and feel that warmth until it faded. Id microwave it so many times to get it back to temperature, even in the Florida summers.
I needed distractions so I’d ride a cheap thrift bicycle I got for 10$ for hours. I painted. I did these things and still daydreamed and fantasized about other places I could exist in, but slowly found myself proud of the strength in my legs and the skills I was making while I was still in my head.
But that’s what it’s about, right? Distractions and making up what you don’t already have but really want. Excitement, love, sex, power, allure.
Maybe you need a distraction of a different form? Maybe it would help to distract your body while your mind is away and maybe you’ll like this reality more and find your brain making better chemicals. Maybe it’ll lead to meeting people with similar distractions who fulfill you more than your fictional darlings. Maybe you’ll just enjoy being here more, in this world.
Sometimes that doesn’t help. Sometimes we need different help. I have OCD and take medicine to manage it, because my brain needs the extra help.
Maybe your life needs more outlets for that creativity in your head.
I could be totally off base and entirely misunderstanding what you mean, so forgive me if I just went off in a useless tangent. Maybe I don’t understand all, in which case, I am sorry.
I hope you have the resources, will, and energy to find ways to get what’s missing and get those warm emotions in this reality.
I hope you’re on the river bank still, and not already sliding down the wet grass.
(Sending long distance hugs, warm and sweaty)
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flames of Desire chapter 12: How Unfortunate ~
Alastor x (F! bunny reader) TW! violence, use of weapons, Vox being an insecure bitch, Angst
Alastors POV:
it's been two days since y/n has gone missing, I have searched every street, every hiding spot, and killed many people for even a hint of where she is but...nothing. Charlie and the others are worried sick, it's not helping the fact I told them I had this matter under control, but the more I come back empty handed the more I'm starting to doubt myself. I can't afford to lose the one good thing I have down in this wretched place, I need to find her I must find her...
my thoughts were short lived when my door busted open, with a growl I turned "Who dares to-" "There is a package for you downstairs" "Charlie can't it wait-" "It's about y/n!". I faze through the floor in a hurry, heading straight for vaggie who is holding a box in her hand with a frown. I snatch it from her hand and with no hesitation rip it open, ripping it open I see a cloth soaked in blood that smells like y/n with brown fur and a business card from Voxtek...
everyone backs away from me as symbols of my magic surround me, static emitting from me with a stare on my face that could kill. I turn my head a crack in my neck following "Angel" he flinches and looks at me "W-what" "You work at Valentino's studio correct!?" he nods and I walk up to him "That means you know your way around Vox's headquarters!" he nods again trying put distance between us "y-your not seriously gonna go in there...right?"
Charlie stands between us "Al maybe we should go with you-" "NO, this is a personal matter!!, excuse me I have some unfinished business to take care of" If Vox wants my attention well...he's got it now. with the snap of a finger, I teleport me an Angel in front of the Vees building "Navigate me through that building, you get y/n and I'll handle the rest"
your POV:
"That's enough Val" "Aww come off Voxy, we're just getting to the fun part~" As Valentino drops me I land on the floor with a loud thud, blood running down my chest from cuts and bruises. "we sent a nice message to your little Bambi, that will surely speed up his arrival~" "fuck you, you flat faced bi-" my head shoots to the side as I feel a sting from the hard slap Vox gave me "learn your place, you should be threatening me knowing your current situation!" "Alastor is gonna get here and he's gonna kill you-" "he's not gonna do shit! not when I have his bitch on a leash~"
the conversation is cut short when Valentino's phone goes off, answering it, it sounds like one of his studio managers. Valentino ends the call "he's here" he says with a grin "Perfect". Vox leaves the room Valentino following behind him, I let out a shaky breath followed by a wince from the pain. at this rate, I might faint just from blood loss, I have to hang in just a little longer....
Alastors POV:
entering the building I make quick work of the staff working on the first floor, Angel leaving to head upstairs for y/n. I intend to wipe every demon in this building, Vox has been getting on my nerves for far too long, and it's time I bring this to an end. I walk into the elevator going up to the second floor, the elevator opens and I see Valentino standing in the middle of the room, models and porn actors fleeing the scene. he holds one gun in each hand, angelic guns... "go on, take your best shot!" he points the guns at me with that golden toothed grin "With pleasure~"
your POV:
my head feels fuzzy, the room being relatively silent before I hear the sound of screams and gunshots. I sit up seeing the door open expecting Vox but it was.. "Angel!!!! y-your here" "damn babes ya look like shit!" he runs over to me, untying my restraints "Thank fuck your here, where is Alastor!!?" "he's downstairs in that shit show" He uses his bottom arms to help me stand, rushing me out of the room. "we need to get ya outta here, smiles is gonna tear down this whole building!"
we stood in the elevator heading down to the second floor, booking it out of the elevator were met with Vox. he held a gun in his hand, using it to hit Angel in the face making him fall to the floor and drop me "you're not going anywhere!" "oh, but I think we are" Behind him stands Alastor, covered in blood with black tentacles coming out of his back. his smile strained and hair puffed out with a gunshot wound in his right shoulder.
Vox grabs me by the hair causing Alastor to lunge forward to attack, but he stops...because Vox takes the angelic gun in his hand, holding it to my head. "that's right! you're not gonna touch me, I will blow her fucking head off!" "Alastor don't-" "SHUT UP!! you have destroyed everything!! you were supposed to be dead seven years ago!!" he then points the gun at Alastor "You've made a fool out of me, you killed VAL!!!" looking behind Alastor, a pool of blood smears the floor with nothing but a pink striped gun left... "hmm how unfortunate~ he did put up a good fight"
"I have worked my ass off!!! to build my company to where it is now, and I'm not going to have an outdated PRICK destroy it, you were supposed to join us but instead, you ran off with Lucifer's dumb bitch daughter, and her HoTeL for redemption!! so now, I'm going to kill you..."
"I would have never joined you, too lost in your own pompous shit technology that it's become your greatest weakness!!, the only person that would tear your company down is you, so eager to prove that you are better but you have flaws just like every other person!!"
Vox's grip tightens on my neck "Vox... ack- y-you don't have to do this!! we can help you-" "My brand is perfection! I don't need help from you!!" he cocks back the gun aiming it straight for Alastors head, but a split second before he shoots Angel tackles him to the floor. everything felt like it was in slow motion, a ring in my ears as the shot fires, Angel on the floor pinning Vox down. and as I turned my head my vision blurred, I saw Alastor fall to his knees... with a gunshot to his chest.
I quickly crawl over to him "Alastor!!!! No... no no NO! Come on get up, please... ALASTOR!!" hot tears fall down my cheeks as I shake his body, his breathing is light and uneven as he struggles to stay awake. Vox laughs, his screen glitching in and out, Angel grabs his phone calling Charlie. I applied pressure to the wounds trying to stop the bleeding, and within a few minutes Charlie arrived with a few other people.
vaggie tries to pry me off of Alastor as I scream not wanting to let go but having no strength to fight back, as I'm pulled away all of the exhaustion and stress got to me causing everything to go dark, passing out.
We're almost finished with the series guys!!! one more chapter to go and I can start up fair exchange!!! also sorry if Velvet is kind of absent in this story, I was going to give her a place but didn't end up doing so since she mostly was on the topic of extermination until the Hazbin production gives her a more important role. thank you guys for your patience and have a wonderful day/night!
-squerlly
@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz
for more content and chapters please click this masterlist
#hazbin#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
if you'd like to share your thoughts on gay trans man marcille i'd love to read them and/or see your art of him! (no pressure of course!)
oh man will I share my thoughts dfjkh I was maybe going to eventually make a post to ramble about it but this gives me the perfect excuse to now :J
This ranting WILL have spoilers for anime only fans/ppl who haven't finished the manga!
Marcille is interesting to read as a gay trans man though. Because how I see it, during the events of the manga he would not know he's trans! Or at most, he would maybe have some Gender Feelings but he wouldn't really understand it yet.
To me, Marcille is the type who would at first do everything in his power to deny it/convince himself he isn't trans. I think he would have a fair bit of internalized transphobia just as a result of his fairly rigid way of going about things. He has specific standards for himself especially but also for others.
This is where my gay trans man headcanon for Falin comes in lol.
Not for romance reasons specifically, but because I think the way Marcille treats Falin when looked at through the lens of Marcille being a trans egg is especially interesting.
For my Falin headcanon, I see Falin as a gay trans man as well, but I think that he wouldn't be out to Marcille until after the events of the manga. This is very integral to how I view Marcille's gender discovery happening.
I think that during the time they're in school together, Marcille would have feelings for Falin that are confusing. In Marcille's mind they're both girls, so he must just be a girl into girls, right? Meanwhile Falin performs girl wrong and this challenges Marcille's worldview. Marcille cares for Falin, and this manifests as Marcille trying to 'help' Falin perform girl better. Basically, Marcille doubling down on his currently held beliefs of what gender is and how it functions instead of considering that it may not be that simple, and he and/or Falin may not be a girl. Falin I think would not bring up being trans for a few reasons but primarily that boy is just not big on conflict with people especially those he cares for.
But anyways. A perfect example of Marcille forcing his idea of correct gender performance being in a daydream hour page where Falin is drawn with short hair, and Marcille is visibly pretty upset by it. (I don't have the translated image but here it is)
I know that it seems like a small thing that doesn't hold much weight, and it's not technically canon but trans mens hair is often something that people feel that they need to control. A girl cutting her hair short is seen as this horrible, unacceptable thing. Now again, obviously Falin doesn't canonically cut his hair short, but the fact that Marcille would be upset and specifically wants it long again informs us about his view of these things. I think that hair being useful for magic would end up being a justification for both being upset by the concept of Falin with short hair, and a justification to himself on why he is not allowed to experiment with shorter hair. It's more practical for his line of work/study, so it's a perfect excuse to just never think about if he TRULY loves it long or if he is just doubling down on performing what's expected of him.
Marcille is a KING of appearing way more uptight than he is. He's very by the books, very strict seeming about doing magic right, but he also specifically primarily has interest in the most taboo magic. He's the loudest about complaining about eating monsters, but he's also the first one to outright say that if they have to eat demihumans then so be it. Marcille is full of contradicting feelings and actions and I think he's prone to trying to fit into what people expect but his heart isn't fully in it so he still ends up doing the unexpected as well.
Even after the manga, Marcille has lost his desire to take care of his hair but he honestly doesn't seem... that upset by it? He is upset, sure, but for something that appeared to be a pretty big thing for him he accepts it shockingly smoothly. Almost as if perhaps, it's a relief to have an excuse to try something different. To try shorter hair maybe? Because now he has an excuse other than doing gender 'wrong'. It would feel safer to explore.
Aand I have a TON of other thoughts but this is getting pretty long and I'm losing track of my thoughts SO I'm going to drop a small list of some other random half formed thoughts I think about in relation to Marcille being a gay trans man
marcille being half elf half tallman and the parallel between that and being trans and how when you're trans you're alienated and isolated. in society's eyes youre not fully a man, not fully a woman, you're both and neither and othered in a complicated way
everyone assuming marcilles wish is to become 'full elf' also is interesting to compare to the experience of people viewing being trans as 'wishing you were X gender' in a very binary way
marcille asking if his dad is pregnant in a flashback just feels like something a trans egg kid would say
marcilles overall attachment to his father tbh.
marcille being super into romance novels and specifically his succubus presenting as a pretty boy from his novels. Obviously this can be read romantic or whatever but I know personally a lot of characters I was obsessed with as a child that I thought was romantic attraction turned out to be a combination of attraction and wanting their gender expression. I think it's interesting to read into marcille's interest in romance novels as him finding a 'safe' way to explore his attraction to men and desire to be a man without actually acknowledging that directly. (a lot of irl gay trans men do similar before they realize theyre gay trans men!)
Aaand that's my thoughts for now lmao. Here's some pen doodles I did while figuring out how I wanted to draw post-canon marcille :> Still working on figuring him out but I like how these look! I like the idea of him having some facial hair (not very long as elves seem to not be able to grow much body hair) and probably cutting his hair so it's more shoulder length and a bit easier to manage!
#rot posts#ask#dunmeshi spoilers#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#marcille donato#tagging mostly for organizing/being able to come back to this but also. look at my trans headcanons#rots art#long post
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Being ace can be pretty isolating at various times, for varying reasons that I don't feel like I have to explain because if you are ace, you probably get it.
#asexual#ace#pride#vague post but you know..*gestures to nothing*#i dont think i even need to expand on this#aromantic#could be thrown into this as well#things are just sometimes frustrating when people dont get it#if you read tags cook bc here we go a bit#there is always this talk of being left behind or being forgotten about or whatever#and yeah its true and when things happening almost in succession that makes it even more aware and apparent that yeah you kinda do get left#behind a bit*#so many ppl want marriage and or kids and its like#what about the people that want to hold on to things as they currently are?#to friends and books and cats and fictional feelings#and the way some ppl you know talk about how people gradual drift apart?#like thats a full on decision#thats not always a mutual thing#people leave at times and another person that might not be ready to end that connection with a person has to navigate their way through it#on their own#but like society is so weird to people that dont want the predictable life path#as you get older questions become are you married#do you have kids like its expected#where are the questions like whats the latest book youve read#whats your current favorite fandom#what makes you happy or brings you joy or whats a good thing about today?#not sure where im cycling down into with this bc theres too much to touch on#but not everyone wants sex or kids or marriage or crippling responsibilities of adulthood#sometimes we just want a hobbit hole to disappear into#a friend to text or pizza to eat or something funny to laugh at
8K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
eatmyartcom
EAT MY ART
evisceratred
EViSCERATRED
machotezin
B A L E I A
cartoonartistpng
✨But Why Tho✨
heybyers
hiding away in hawkins