#{/it was never intended to be but now that i think about it; i always did intend it to be something somewhat like this}
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Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!
Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.
I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.
Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.
Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...
There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?
Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.
…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.
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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART I
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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.5k || ao3 || Part II -> coming soon! || masterlist ||
minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
***
Suguru tries to tame you.
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✧ SPRING FEVER collab masterlist ✧
cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader if you squint, biting, blood, marking, eventual forced bathing in later parts, eventual forced feeding in later parts, eventual smut in later parts; masturbation, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?
a/n: this is for @lorelune 's SPRING FEVER collab!! i have been working on this for awhile now and i am excited to share it! this should be about 3 parts...i am very close to finishing the whole thing so i should be releasing a part a week for the next two weeks!
thank you for reading!! i would love to hear your thoughts <333
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“I think you’d be perfect.”
Suguru’s voice is a caress, low and soft, as he sits across from you.
Somehow, he always makes you feel like he is just beneath the surface of your skin, even if there is a respectable distance between you. He always makes you feel as if he is lurking somewhere in the lowest parts of you, pulling at strings you once thought hidden to yourself.
You’ve kept your distance for this reason.
You swallow hard.
And then you manage to get your voice to unstick, to find it somewhere inside of you and bring it to life. It’s firmer than you’re anticipating and you’re proud;
“I don’t think I would be.”
Suguru looks at you in a way that makes you feel as if he’s seeing through you, pulling you open slowly to gaze at all the inner workings of you. His dark eyes are keen, so sharp, even if they’re shaded by half-lidded lashes.
He smiles pleasantly and indulges you, but you know he believes very firmly that he is, in fact, right, “why not?”
“I told you when I agreed to join you—all I wanted in exchange for helping you, was to be an unbound Omega.” You force yourself to meet his eyes and to not get sucked into the dark tide of them.
“You asked for my protection.” He reminds you.
Your eyes flash this time, heated, a little spark that skitters to life inside of you.
“I didn’t—“
“Is that not what you’d call it?” Suguru asks, “when I interfered, every time, to be sure no other Alpha got to you? Or when I scented you to keep them away?”
Prickling warmth dots your cheeks, can feel at the back of your neck, too, the tips of your ears. You try a different tactic.
“I’m not a homemaker.”
His smile is soft, “I don’t want a homemaker.”
“I’m not obedient.” You counter again, as if you could dissuade Suguru Getou once he’s made up his mind.
“You’ve been quite good for me.” Suguru says smugly and this time, a little noise of embarrassment or frustration eeks out of you. A short, sharp little growl from your throat, almost a groan of irritation.
“I—I’m doing your dirty work. That’s our agreement! You give me assignments that I complete and in return, I get my freedom.”
“I don’t know why you’re so opposed to this. Is it not similar already to what we have now?” He asks simply, “I’d still let you roam, if that’s what you’re so scared of.”
“No it’s that—that power and mentality that I don’t want you to have over me.” You snap.
“I already have it,” he says and it isn’t intended to be cruel, but certainly is, “how long do you think you’d last, without the protection of an Alpha?”
“I didn’t have any before you.”
“You were starving, injured, and constantly on the run before me.” You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “it would still give you what you want.”
“I don’t want to be yours.” You say frankly, perhaps to be cruel yourself. And then you show teeth a little, flash them in warning, “I don’t want your mark.”
Suguru looks amused, if anything, by your display.
His smile is knowing and insufferable. It makes your anger ratchet up inside of you, hackles rising. You feel a little growl working its way out of your throat. It tears out of you in annoyance, when he says, “I don’t believe you.”
You slam the door so hard on its hinges that it rattles the entire wall. You wish it would rattle all the world.
***
Your cursed technique rips to life like a star exploding outwards.
Beast that you are, it overtakes you, transforms you until you are all claws and dripping, little fangs. Your body elongates, elegant, and built for speed, viciousness. The horns atop your head are sharp, too, curled the slightest into a crescent shape. The beast in you stretches and pulls at your bones, fits your skin to it in a way that you have come to know well.
(“Cursed technique: Cursed Creature,” Suguru hums, “allows you to turn into a cursed version of yourself, a sort of,” he pauses, looking you over, “monster?”
“That’s right.” You tell him, body trembling all over, in dire need of food. Care. Sleep.
He places a large hand on top of your head, strokes gently, until his hand nudges your cheek, beneath your chin so you are forced to look up into his eyes. Depthless violet.
“You have a deal.”)
The sorcerer is cast backward with the force of your transformation. In this form, everything heightens, sharpening into brilliance. So much brighter, clearer. So much more overwhelming.
You are a flash of darkness when you move, a mass of lethality.
The sorcerer doesn’t stand a chance, the moment you dash past him with a deep swipe of your claws, you know this will be an easy match. You chitter in this form, excited, warbly little sound erupting from you before you careen towards him again.
This time, he is warped away.
But you are fast, changing your trajectory mid-step to catch up to where he was warped.
Except, this time, a white haired sorcerer takes his place.
Your claws meet air.
A growling hiss erupts from your throat.
Satoru Gojo.
Suguru told you to stay away from him. At all costs.
And speak of the devil, your name is called, whistled almost. Your head turns to find Suguru appearing, too.
Faintly, the more human part of you wonders what the occasion is.
For a moment, all you can see is threat. Your hackles rise as your growling gets lower, more sinister, your form moving behind Gojo as if you might circle him, unable to let down your guard.
“Call off your pet,” Gojo says.
Suguru calls your name again and there’s something else in his tone now, a little sharper.
(Fear, you wonder faintly, in some far away part of your mind. Is he worried Gojo would hurt you?)
You come to heel at Suguru’s side, remaining in this form, making a low, threatening sound still. Warning. Your claws still drip with the blood of that sorcerer.
“Go,” Suguru says to you.
Your head snaps to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving,” you snap and the words have a bite to it, around the curves of your fangs. You look back at Gojo. If this comes to blows, you don’t want Suguru facing Gojo alone–you don’t want to leave his back suddenly unguarded.
It’s counterintuitive to you, goes against all of your instincts. You don’t leave him, you don’t leave his side, his back.
“Go,” Suguru says, harsher this time and the command seeps into you. You waver. And then, “I won’t tell you again.”
When you hiss at him in that warbling way of curses, he smiles faintly, almost fondly, as your teeth drip with venom. But you do listen to him this time.
And with your heightened hearing, you hear Gojo underneath his breath as you slink away;
“How interesting.”
***
When Suguru returns to you, he is unharmed.
You’d paced the length of the hallway outside of his room in the compound until you could have worn a hole into it.
Few would be brave enough to wait for Suguru outside his door.
When he arrives, he is mildly surprised to see you, before his expression melts into a sort of—smugness. A knowing glint to his eyes.
“Why would you send me away?” You snap.
“You could’ve gone in, you know, if it would’ve soothed you.” Suguru says instead, head nodding towards the door to his suite. “Would you like a key?”
You blanche, taking a half step back, “I don’t—“
It allows him to get to his door and open it. You’ve been here before, in the privacy of his suite, but now it feels strange. A little different. He holds the door open for you.
You glance at the threshold and feel as if you’re making an important decision.
“Come on,” he says smoothly and before you can think twice about it, you are being led inside, his hand drifting somewhere near your lower back. He never touches you, the feeling is a phantom one, the impression of it. You shiver a little.
But you round on him again, “why would you send me away?”
He doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he goes rifling in a drawer, digging around a little.
His suite is larger than others. The living room is open and attached is the kitchen. It’s all light wood, with tall windows that overlook the courtyard. You know, despite never being inside, that his bedroom is down the hall and to the left. The bathroom is across from it. You’ve sat many times on the floor of his living room with him, going over assignments, plans that he has, and what he’d like you to do.
When he finds what he’s looking for, he makes a soft noise, before turning to you with a small, gold key.
“I don’t want a key!” You snap.
“It’s a spare, take it just in case.” He replies and when you don’t move to grab it from him, he takes your hand in his much larger one, and opens your palm to him.
He places the key in your hand.
And then his eyes catch yours, “you were worried.”
“No-!” you get out, “I don’t like being—I’m supposed to protect you.”
Suguru smiles, hand still swallowing yours, “isn’t that sweet?” he remarks, “an Omega attempting to protect an Alpha.”
Immediately, you jerk away from him.
The key is still in your shaking fist.
“Don’t start,” you snarl, low and vicious and hurt, “I’ve always been the one at your side.”
“Yes,” he agrees, hand falling back down to his side listlessly. “I already told you that.”
You’ve always been at my side, he’d said, when he was trying to convince you to–
“That’s not what I meant!” Your voice rises without your consent and you feel an embarrassed, angry flush through your face for being so worked up. The room is thick with your worry and anger and frustration, all of your pent up energy like a knot in your chest, in your voice. It’s in your heart and the way you look at him.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” Suguru says easily, “it’s still the truth.”
When you slam the door this time, you hear something fall from the wall.
But the key is still in your trembling hand, digging indents into your palm, and your heart is still a beast in your chest.
And behind the closed door, Suguru Getou smiles fondly, and retrieves the fallen, shattered frame from the floor.
***
For a while, you avoid Suguru.
You stuff the key he gave you in your nightstand drawer, far in the back, in an attempt to keep it out of sight and out of your mind.
And at first, you think he is respecting your boundaries; you receive assignments through others from him. You see him only in passing and he never speaks directly to you. He hardly acknowledges you.
But after a week and a half, it begins to feel like punishment.
And the key is starting to burn and itch in your mind. You think about it at night, tossing over in your bed; you think about unlocking his door at this hour. What would you find? Would he be asleep? Awake? Alone? Fully dressed?
You think of him half bare and lounging, hair slipping over his shoulders, and the scent of sandalwood and fig. Tonka or something woodsy, maybe. You know it well and it lingers long after he leaves you.
You suddenly miss it, crave it.
Him.
You twist beneath your sheets.
Why did he have to–
You make a soft noise of frustration, turning over again.
You’re restless.
Something beneath your skin begins to itch and squirm.
Previously, Suguru had hardly mentioned your status as an Omega. He rarely acknowledged it; you were too brilliant of a sorcerer for him to care, you thought. You were too powerful. The only instance he brought it up was to scent you, a form of caution in a particular instance, for a particular mission. The memory still simmers in your mind, the way he’d rubbed the gland on your wrist with a careful thumb. He’d given you clothes of his to wear. He’d had you sit in his quarters for long hours, until it seemed as if you were his, in some way.
But now that he’s actually brought it up, offered you his bite, to be his, it paints him in an entirely different light.
Had he always…wanted you?
Was he always planning this?
The naive, desperate parts of you want to believe this is a recent thought of his. Previous to this, he only ever saw you as another sorcerer, a powerful one that aided him. You had always been one of the closer ones to him, at his heel, his beck and call.
You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of Suguru this way; as an Alpha. An unmated one, who kept your company.
And he does, no matter how badly it burns to admit it, protect you.
You know he wards off Alphas.
You know he perhaps does more than even that.
But you don’t want—
You don’t want to be mated.
You don’t want to suddenly be coddled by him, held back, don’t want to be the little thing that keeps his bed warm.
Your face heats with the thought.
Images flash through your mind, flickering, melting together like film that bleeds and runs, of him overtop you. Shrouding you. His hair on your shoulders and back. You think of his mouth on your throat, teeth in your neck.
You rub at your eyes suddenly as if to clear them.
You know he leaves on a mission for a week in two days.
You assume, at some point, he’ll speak to you. And break this strange silence.
You’ll both return to normal then.
And then perhaps you won’t lose any more sleep over him.
***
Suguru never says goodbye to you.
It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you just figured he’d finally drop this silly little silence game.
You suppose he must’ve thought the same of you.
Besides, what were you expecting from him? An apology? It’s foolish to even entertain. You knew you weren’t going to apologize either. The least you’ll do, when he returns, is act as if all is normal again. Perhaps it’s better that way, not to address what he’s put in his head recently.
The more you speak of it, or think of it, the worse it unravels in your mind.
On the second day that he is gone, you realize you miss his scent.
You realize it has become such a staple in your everyday life that its sudden disappearance is almost alarming. It makes you more irritable, more vicious. You snap at the others faster, bite out insults and brutalities.
You—
Well, you miss it.
Him, maybe.
The admittance is a hard one to swallow around. It burns going down.
On the third day, you’re genuinely craving his scent in a way that makes your teeth ache. You had no idea you could even miss a scent like this, need it so bad that your body would betray you with a physical pain in your chest. Somewhere in your mouth, under your tongue.
You try to ignore it.
You go on with your life.
But by the fifth day, you are agitated and aggressive. Everyone knows something is wrong with you. You know something is wrong with you. You can feel it beneath your skin, crawling, squirming. It makes you want to tear out your hair, rip at your nails, or sink your teeth into something. You’re restless.
You can’t sleep.
You can hardly eat or think.
And as you lay awake in your bed, kicking at sheets, sweating and twisting, you know what it is you need.
You’ve known the whole week.
You throw back the covers and wrench open your bedside drawer.
The key rattles, hot, like it knows it’s finally about to be used. It’s musical sound a siren song, it’s been burning away in there the whole week.
You swipe it and turn sharply from your bedroom. From your own apartment.
It’s the middle of the night; not a soul sees you in the compound.
Like a person possessed, you walk. Your back is straight. Your steps are quick. Your mind is set, on fire.
Suguru’s door has haunted you the whole week.
The key in your hand digs into the flesh, carving it’s divots there like your hand might be the lock itself.
You try not to think about it–you unlock the door. You throw it open.
You shut it behind you, slide the lock back into place.
Darkness greets you.
You wander in like you know the place (you do, you do–)
You wander in like it’s yours to wander in.
Instantly, something loosens inside of you.
You exhale hard.
Inhale sharp.
The smell of him, fainter because he’s been gone, assaults your senses, sweeps over them. You take in a lungful like gasping for air, you smell faint traces of fig and sandalwood. Notes of tonka that you long for, that urge you to move deeper into his space.
In the dark, you make your way down the hall, towards his bedroom.
You haunt the arch for a moment.
Guilt or regret or embarrassment almost seize you. They make you pause.
Some sane part of you is clawing at your insides, wailing to turn around and leave. Leave now.
But he gave you a key.
He gave you a key, you think in circles, again and again. He gave me a key.
You cross the threshold.
You sink down into his bed and his scent is strongest here, even still, after several days it’s his.
You turn over the covers to get beneath them, cool sheets against your legs, sliding and smooth. You turn your face into his pillow and inhale.
A soft little groan works it’s way out of you.
Instantly, your muscles slacken.
Everything leeches from you; your anger and irritation and restlessness.
It soothes you so deeply and so swiftly it makes your head spin.
You curl beneath his blankets and take deep pulls of breath, squirming a moment if only to bring his scent tighter around you. You envelope yourself in it.You shroud yourself in it.
And finally, after five days of restless nights, you fall asleep almost instantly.
Not a single dream. Not one moment where you wake or stir.
You sleep deeply.
In the morning, the sun warms you through the broad windows like a content cat.
You stretch lazily like one, too.
Suguru will be home tomorrow.
You know you need to leave his bed, hope that your scent dissipates by the time he returns.
You didn’t do anything wrong, you know—he gave you a key.
He gave you a key.
But rather, you know he would never let you live it down. He would use it instantly, as ammunition for his argument, the debate that the two of you keep circling.
You don’t quite leave as quickly as you should still, though:
You linger.
You’re comfortable.
Calmed for the first time all week.
And when you do slip out, it’s silently, locking the door behind you.
Like maybe you won’t ever let yourself back in there, trying to shut it like it was a one time indulgence and gone now from your mind and body.
But his scent clings to you.
And little do you know, your scent clings to his sheets—and to Suguru, it’s sweet as can be and unmistakable—irreplaceable.
He collapses in his own bed when he returns and knows you’ve been all over it. He can smell the crush of dark berries, jasmine, the soothing note of vanilla that clings to you, that he’s come to adore.
He grins to himself and knows then, he’s got you right where he wants you.
***
For a moment, you think Suguru is going to make you be the bigger person and apologize upon his return.
Instead, he finds you.
And he doesn’t say he’s sorry for his recent behavior, but he does say;
“I’d prefer if you didn’t avoid me in the future.”
It feels like sorry enough.
And for some time, things return to a state of normal.
A version of it.
It isn’t quite like it was before—in fact, you seem to spend more time around him than previously. He calls on you more. He brings you into his space more frequently, often urging you to eat with him, beside him, at his table.
This is ideal for you. Close but not too close.
Although, he begins to ask, don’t you have your key? Can’t you let yourself in?
You say you haven’t used it.
He hums like he knows differently, but doesn’t press you.
Until finally he asks you to retrieve a notebook in his study and bring it to him.
Fetch, he says.
“It’s locked, isn’t it?”
“You have your key.” He answers simply, not looking up from the book he is reading.
For a moment, you almost protest, but something stops you. Maybe the twitch in his brow.
It’s a useless argument to pick, anyways.
You do have a key.
It would be fastest, easiest, to just use it.
So you do.
And you hand him the notebook he asked for, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you with gentle hands.
“Thank you,” he adds, voice so smooth and low, almost tempting.
You swallow a little.
Then you quickly avert your gaze.
“Whatever,” you grouse, but he smiles fondly, amused.
And it opens another door, more than just the one to his suite.
***
Tentatively, you begin to come and go.
The first (second) time you use your key to enter without his order, he is careful not to react to you any differently than how he usually does.
His eyes brighten a little, though, like a leopard that’s caught something interesting in its sights and is waiting to see what it’ll do.
Still, you grow more comfortable entering his space on your own.
You claim portions of it; a corner of the couch. A particular cushion around his low table. All of the sunny patches in his suite become yours, scented with you, indented with you. More than that, some horrible, hidden part of you adores that your scent is all over his space.
It’s comforting to find it beside his scent.
It soothes a part of you that you don’t wish to admit to.
His hands grow bolder.
Now they’re always hovering at the small of your back, the nape of your neck. He tucks strands of your hair away from your face and though you jerk away from him, it’s often half-hearted. You snip at him and he only smiles.
Pleased. Smug. Knowing.
His hands guide you as you walk beside him.
You grow accustomed to his touch in some way—he makes sure of it.
Then, as if to prove something—
Another cult member begins to cause trouble with you; he is another Omega. He begins with snide comments and remarks that test your patience. He doesn’t stop until you are growling and bristled and ready for a fight.
And all it takes to stop you is Suguru’s large hand coming down on the nape of your neck.
His thumb rests atop one scent gland at your throat, fingertips pressing delicately into the one on the other side. Hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“Easy,” he murmurs and just like that, you can feel some of your aggression slip from you, deflate like a balloon.
It’s involuntary, the energy and anger unspooling from your body in an instant. In the back of your mind, you’re alarmed; how easily it was for him to effect you. It’s terrifying.
You swat his hand away, lurching from him, another little growl in your throat.
But you don’t fight him or the look in his eyes, the way he tilts his chin up in the barest hint of dominance.
You storm off.
Instances as such continue to happen, though, where he’s able to sooth or quell your temperament with a touch. A word. A look.
It comes to a head while you’re eating dinner with him.
“You’re so wound up,” Suguru comments lightly, “your scent is so sharp with it. What’s bothering you?”
Reflexively, you snap, “you are.”
And it’s meant to be some sort of insult but Suguru’s lips twist into this hitched little smile. “It’s my fault you’re wound up?” He asks lightly.
“Don’t twist my words.” You respond, fixing him with a glare, “you bother me.”
He’s still deeply amused by this, you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes. The smug way he holds himself.
“Would you like me to help you?” He asks.
“No,” you say reflexively.
A beat of silence before he says, “come here. I’ll help you.”
There’s a command in his voice, laced there, and doing something strange to your head.
You hesitate.
He pounces, “just a massage.” He soothes, “I can tell your shoulders are knotted up and tense. I can see it.”
His voice has dropped into that soothing lull.
Warily, “away from my glands?”
He smiles, “of course.” And then, “come here.”
Your body moves easily now and he murmurs, “sit in front of me. Back to me—there, that’s it.”
It feels more vulnerable than it should to show your back to him, to sit in front of him like a child to their mother. You try to keep your posture straight and careful.
But then he sets large, warm hands to your shoulders. His fingers dig into the meat of them gently, pressing into your muscles which spasm and twitch in pain. You yelp, jerking away.
Suguru tsks, “see how tense you are? You’re in pain.” He scolds softly and you feel heat smart across your face, “sit still for me. I’ll be gentler.”
True to his word, he eases up, fingers careful as they run into your tense muscles.
He finds bundles of twisted up tension in your back and shoulders, pressing into them until a noise springs from you—a groan, a whimper, a little growl. He works the sounds out of you. You swear he’s doing it deliberately and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just to humiliate you a little.
But you finally loosen and slacken for him.
When you finally sink into his hands, he murmurs, “I don’t know why you fight this so badly.”
You let go of a heavy sigh, “you do know why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Because you’re stubborn?” Suguru asks lightly and you snort, despite yourself, “because you don’t know what’s good for you?”
“You’re no good for me.” You respond.
Suguru’s turn to sigh and if he digs his fingers in to make you yip in pain, he’d never say it was purposeful.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
Reflexively, you jerk away from his touch, you turn to look at him over your shoulder with a sneer.
“I’m not a pet.”
Suguru does not heed your warning and instead gently pulls you back towards him by your waist.
“No?” He asks lightly, fingers resuming their steady massage. You go completely still like prey, unsure, wary. Angry. Humiliated. “It’s not a bad thing to be a pet. You’re thinking about it all wrong.”
His fingers ease up towards your neck and you stiffen again.
“Suguru,” you say in warning as he nears your scent glands. Perhaps to what he’s said.
“You’re my pet now,” he continues, “though you don’t like to admit it. It’s not so bad, is it?”
Stubbornly, you don’t answer him.
But after a moment, you say, “if I’m already yours, why do you need this last bit of me? If you already see me as your pet, why do you want me so terribly, in this way—“
Suguru suddenly pulls you back deeper, into his lap, against his chest.
You squirm, but he holds you tight, hooks his chin over your shoulder.
Alarm bells ring frantically in your head now that he’s so close to the glands in your throat.
“Don’t play dumb,” Suguru muses, half-mocking, “it doesn’t suit you.”
“Let me go,” you snarl low and hot.
“What are you scared of?” Suguru responds, “that I’d trap you? If you’d take my Bite, I’d let you roam further than I do now. You’d be safe.”
“Liar,” you hiss, “I’m not dumb.”
“I’m not trying to stifle you, I’m trying to set you free.” Suguru almost purrs and his voice is warm and low and creeping up over your spine and trying to find its way inside you.
You begin to squirm this time, thrashing in his hold until you manage to wriggle free, falling forward onto your hands and knees.
Instinctively, you turn to keep your back protected, scrambling away from him. You bare your teeth at him.
“I don’t believe you.”
He watches this show of aggression with amusement, tilting his head slightly. And then he sighs, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you at this point.”
You narrow your eyes at the tone. Your hackles rise.
In an instant, he has grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back to him.
Underneath him.
You shove hard at him, twisting and fighting as he settles himself over you.
You realize how solid he is, how strong, and large. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Suguru,” you hiss at him, pushing as hard as you can on his chest.
“See how easy it was for me to subdue you?” He says then, voice smooth and low. “If I wanted to take you, I simply would’ve already. You’re no challenge to me; if I wanted to trap you, I would’ve.”
“Get off me!”
You thrash hard beneath him and in an instant, he has your hands uselessly pinned above your head, stretching you out beneath him.
His nose dips, near the scent gland at your throat. You squirm.
He squeezes your wrists, “stop squirming.” He murmurs low, “or my instinct will be to bite.”
Your stomach does a horrible flip, a flutter of—fear, excitement.
“Just—get off—leave me alone!” You get out, voice high and tight. You try not to arch away from the way he lets his face fall to the crook of your neck.
“Hush,” Suguru hisses, nudging his nose beneath your ear.
He’s scenting you.
He’s done this before and despite everything in you, you finally go slack. You force yourself not to tilt your head or offer up more, rather let him urge you into the way that he prefers.
He nudges his cheek and nose against your jaw. He lets out a relieved breath, fitting more of his body to you and you feel the push of chest into yours, his hips.
You squirm a little and a growl erupts from his throat.
You fight back the sound that almost works its way out of you now, swallow around it.
When he’s finished, he asks, “would you like to scent me?” And instinctively, you want to say yes, but you temper yourself. Then he adds, “I’m sending you away on a mission alone. I’ll be scenting you until the day you leave now.”
You catch his eyes, glinting.
“So, I thought it only fair if you’d like to scent me, too.”
You don’t know why, but something squirms inside of you, something a little hurt.
“You’re sending me away?”
Suguru hums softly, “I need you to take care of something for me. I only trust you to do it.”
You flex your hands a little in his hold, but he doesn’t budge.
He nudges at your jaw again, gentle, and murmurs, “this would be easier if you’d take my mark.”
You turn your head then to shield your throat, and face him. His nose nearly brushes yours and you look up at him through your lashes. You bite your tongue from any further complaints, dipping down to the crux of his throat now.
Easily, perhaps eagerly, he bares his throat for you.
Satisfaction erupts beneath your skin as his scent washes over you, dark fig and oud, sandalwood and musk. Carefully, your nose runs along the column of his throat.
“I’m not even—“ you huff, retry, “I haven’t had a Heat in—it wouldn’t take, anyways.”
“Ah,” Suguru says and you wish you hadn’t told him at all. Realization dawns over his features the way a cat might realize it’s caught its mouse beneath its paws. “Is this what you’re so scared of?”
“No—I prefer it this way. It’s another reason that you can’t. It wouldn’t work.” You say stubbornly and perhaps in your irritation, you burrow further down into the crook of his neck, tuck your cheek to his skin to nudge.
“I could give you a temporary one,” he murmurs, “I’d let you do the same in return, of course.”
You go quiet, brushing your lips against his skin, hesitating.
“I don’t need it.” You finally decide, even as you let the blunt side of a tooth nick gently against his neck. “I can protect myself.” You pull away to look at him again, “am I not one of your strongest?”
“You are my strongest.” He agrees, he praises. “But am I not also strong?” He asks, “and yet you still insist on protecting me.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he takes your chin in hand suddenly, words dying before they can escape.
“You are my strongest.” He says, “I would like the world to be aware of it.”
“I told you, I don’t want to be yours–”
“Then stop protecting me. Flee. Run away and never return.” Suddenly, his touch, his body, all of him is gone. He rolls off of you and onto his back beside you. Cold air sweeps in. You can feel his touch like burning imprints on your skin.
You turn your head to the side to look at him.
“You would hunt me down if I ran.”
A flicker of a smile ghosts his face.
“And if I ran from you?” He asks, “if I discarded you?”
Something twists so viciously and sharply in your chest that your eyes sting with it. You lock your jaw tight. You stare up at the ceiling.
“You refuse to speak but your scent is spiced with distress, sour with despair.” He turns to look at you, “not so easy to hear, is it?”
“I can’t stand you or your games.” You get out.
“There are no games.” He says evenly, “only the one you’re playing with yourself.”
You scoff, “which is?”
He sits up slightly, over you, looking down at you, the inky silk of his dark hair sliding over one shoulder.
“Seeing how long you can outrun what you want.”
You exhale roughly, in exasperation, and then you ask dryly, “and what do I want, Suguru?”
“To be taken care of.”
“I don’t need–”
He cuts off your growl before it can start, taking your chin in hand to turn your head towards him once more. “You never have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t want it.”
“I don’t want it either.” You snap. “You have some grand delusion of me in your mind that I am some weak, submissive creature in need of your care.”
“I’ve said none of that, have I?” He hums. “Now you’re twisting my words, being purposefully churlish–in hopes of, what? To scare me off?”
His palm opens up against your jaw, your cheek. His thumb touches your bottom lip.
“You snap and you snarl and posture as some ferocious, independent creature to scare everyone off. I don’t blame you–I am certain you protected yourself many times this way from lesser people.” His voice is soft, almost a lull, you allow his palm to open against your lips, to turn your face into the cup of his hands. “You don’t believe anyone can handle you and you hope if you bite hard enough, tear into them, they’ll run off. And then you’ll feel vindicated; you were right, you are too much to handle. You were right, you are a monster. You’re unworthy of care or companionship or protection.”
His hand moves upward, baring his wrist to your mouth now, “go on,” he encourages, “bite me. As hard as you like. Scream and cry and tear into me. Loathe me and scorn me.” He leans closer, over you, as he hushes like a mother to their child, “I’ll still be here, with the rings of your teeth marks littered in my skin. I’ll be the only one, bruised and bloody, still taking care of you–no matter how badly you fight me.”
Out of anger or frustration or something else entirely, tears prick your eyes. As if to hide them, you open your mouth against his wrist, gentle first–warm and soft lips and tongue. He looks enraptured. He looks starving.
You sink your teeth into his skin viciously.
He hisses in pain, sharp, but doesn’t pull away. “There,” he coos, leaning over you, sinking into the pain, “is that what you wanted?”
Blood bursts into your mouth in a way that is almost startling, sharp and metallic. It should be gross and horrible and–you whine a little, somewhere in the back of your throat and bear down harder.
If that’s what he promises, you’ll make him prove it.
If he wants to be the one beside you, you’ll make him pay.
He leans down to kiss at your cheeks, gentle, humming. You realize there are tears. Your jaw aches.
But you don’t let go and he doesn’t even flinch.
“Does that feel better? To get your teeth into someone who isn’t scared of you?” He murmurs, nudging at your tense jaw, kissing there. “Shall I do the same to you?”
You release his wrist and shove him off, hard enough that he gives and he goes.
You stand up and storm out of his chambers, slamming the door on its hinges as hard as you can. You hope it knocks over every painting on his walls. You hope the entire compound somehow hears it. You hope it breaks something in the same way that something has been broken open inside of you.
You wipe his blood from your mouth with the back of your hand.
Suguru doesn’t even bandage the wound. And he wears his sleeves high, so that all the world might see it.
#suguru getou x reader#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru getou x you#getou suguru x you#suguru geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#cw: omegaverse#cw: yandere#cielo writes!#cielo's writing!
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Just a little help -Rafe Cameron
Warnings: Corruption, Anger Issues, Not proof read, English is not my first language
Pairing: Grumpy!Rafe x Sunshine!Reader
You hated Rafe. He was a grumpy guy while you were a ray of pure sunshine. The fact that he was a Kook while you were a Pogue didn't make things any better.
You couldn't go to the other side of the island without him making rude comments. Of course, they hurt you, but by now, you were pretty much used to it.
"Where are your little friends? After our last encounter, I thought they understood that letting you walk home all by yourself is not a good idea." Rafe grinned like a maniac.
"It gets boring, you know. Everything you can do is insult the Pogues and me. If you have something new, please let me know." You smiled at him, patting his chest.
You have always followed your instincts without hesitation. And right now, it felt right to pat Rafe's chest.
"Don't touch me with your dirty hands, Pogue." He hissed, turning around to leave.
You took a deep breath, not believing what you were about to do, "Rafe?"
After you called out his name, he turned around quickly, clearly annoyed, "What?"
"Who hurt you?" You asked carefully, to not make him even more upset. You knew it was a cliche moment, but you loved all this corny shit.
Rafe looked at you for a few seconds before he started to laugh. He was laughing directly in your face after you tried to be nice to him for once.
"I suggest you go back to your fucking side of the island and stop asking me shit." He said after calming down his laughter, his tone dangerously low.
"Come on, Rafe, you can tell me. I am actually a very good listener." You tried once again, wanting to help him.
He walked to you as fast as he could, "Listen, Pogue, I know what you are trying to do, and I can guarantee you, it won't work. Did your friends send you to me? Did they think I would go easy on you because you are known as the sunshine of the Cut?"
You quickly shook your head, "I just came from work, so it was a total coincidence that I met you."
The tension was so thick that it seemed like it could have been cut with a knife.
"Look, Rafe, you hate me, and I don't even know why. Everybody told me I was supposed to hate you as well, so I did it. I promise I am here to help you." You looked into his blue eyes, finding some sort of comfort in them.
Rafe Cameron was speechless. Never had anyone wanted to him, and now you, a Pogue, stood in front of him.
"You want to help me to get rid of my anger?" He asked, to which you nodded.
That was all Rafe needed to see before he pressed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen in disbelief, not expecting something like this.
"Now, I feel better." He smirked after pulling away.
"Why would you do that?" You raised your voice at him.
The answer was he didn't know it. He never thought about you in any sexual way, but the way you looked at him, he just had to corrupt you. And that's exactly what he did.
A year later
"Here," You smiled down at Rafe, handing him a glass of whisky.
He pulled you onto his lap, kissing you roughly, "Thank you, what would I do without my little ray of sunshine."
It was like he brainwashed you. You did everything for him, just like he wanted it all those years. He finally had someone who didn't say anything against the things he did. And he intended to keep it that way.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#obx#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you
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What Tiktoks I think Overwatch characters would post ༊*·˚
Junkrat, He'll post like a really bad thirst trap and all people can focus on are the stains on his mattress and the literal dumpster that is his room. One of those TikTok anomalies, he’s famous and doesn’t even realize it. Ppl use him for reaction pics/vids. Hog had to enforce a swear jar but instead of swears its for every time he says skibidi or rizz or sigma
Junkerqueen, She doesn’t post but she’s under every fucking comment section being a hater
Venture, CEO of educational brainrot. Posts tons of videos abt their digs and findings going into detail abt the history of things and at the end it’ll leave you like “was that TikTok really 10 minutes long…? No way…”. Will send you down hour long rabbit holes about random shit and you can't even control it like you will be hypnotized. Usually ends up tripping and falling on camera and whines when that's all the comments talk abt lololol
Genji, Posts thirst traps like a motherfucker and he’ll act all innocent abt it as if they’re not intended to be thirst traps but everyone knows what he’s doing and he’s just embarrassing himself. “#fyp #08” (YOU'RE 37!!!!!)
Sombra, She only posts prank videos where someone always ends up in the ER. Never shows her face but you’ll know it’s her cuz she lets out evil cackles behind the camera
Brigitte, The cutest cat videos !! :3 as well as baking recipes every now and then !
Lucio, “DID I JUST MAKE THE SONG OF THE SUMMER?! 😱😱😱”
“Junkrqween : turn this SHIT OFF.”
Moira, she's voted for the ban of tiktok 3 times now
Lifeweaver, He does NOT play when it comes to tiktok dance trends... yk that one tiktok of the couple doing a dance and the guy is like super fruity and the girl looks super confused, that's him and Sym
All i can think of rn! the amount of junkrat hcs i have is concerning
hes a very odd creature
#overwatch headcanons#overwatch 2#venture overwatch#junkrat#moira odeorain#junker queen#lucio overwatch#sombra#lifeweaver#genji shimada#sloane cameron#brigitte
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last forever [1/13]
Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.
Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)
Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on
Notes: Hello, this is a fanfic I've been working on for a few months now. I'm still not done, but I figured I would go ahead and start posting it here as a cross post with Quotev and AO3. Sometimes I find this, Zoro and the story, hard to write, but I'm trying. This will NOT be a one-to-one rehashing of the arcs but will have more focus on Zoro and Reader's relationship as it progresses. The first two chapters are written in past tense, everything afterward is present tense, sorry about that. I've been having more fun writing present tense instead of past tense. I have the first three chapters completed, I'm still working on chapter four, but hope to have it done for Monday, and I intend to update mostly on Mondays for this one. Zoro and Reader call each other husband and wife at times, it's in italics on purpose. Hope you enjoy this one.
You were so grateful you couldn't stop crying and thanked him numerous times, never once telling him you hoped you'd never have to get an annulment with him. Your feelings for him were still new, he was a year older than you, but he'd protected you well in the time you knew each other. Of course, you could hold your own as a swordswoman yourself, but Zoro always tried to leave the recon to you while he took out your bounty targets.
Never did you think or imagine your wedding day would be like this. In a courthouse in a backwoods town with no real witnesses, to someone you'd only known for about a year and a half now. This wasn't even out of love for him, he'd only agreed to prevent you from being legally forced into marriage with a man several years older than you who had two other wives already.
No, you and Roronoa Zoro weren't in love, but he was trying to help you out so you didn't end up in a bad situation or with bodyguards chasing you down to force you back to your home village. When you had told him the story, he was honestly disgusted hearing how your family was treating you like an object to be sold, instead of as your own person. The whole reason you'd run away from home was to avoid this, but a letter brought to you by your family's personal carrier bird a few weeks ago changed that. As soon as you turned eighteen, if you weren't married or engaged to someone else, you'd be forced into marrying the creep that agreed to this when you were just fifteen. While you broke down in tears out of fear, Zoro told you he'd marry you to keep you from being taken back home. You told him he didn't have to, but he brought up that after your family heard, if they dropped the arranged marriage, you could get an annulment and it would be like this marriage never happened. You'd be free from your family and the creep, still able to travel and live your own life.
So, a week after you turned eighteen, once you reached a small town with a courthouse, you both immediately went there to get this sham of a marriage completed. The clerk looked you both over several times, asking your ages and you lied, claiming you were both twenty-one when she said you'd need parental approval if you were younger than twenty. She didn't ask for proof, instead mumbling something to herself about how it seemed people were getting married younger and younger every year. No more questions about witnesses, parental approval, or identification to prove your ages, the older woman just filled out the paperwork and had you two sign it for processing.
While it was being processed, she sent you to the other side of the room to sit and wait.
"Thank you."
Zoro just shrugged, wishing the old bat would hurry it up so you could find a hotel and get a room so he could go to sleep. "You don't have to keep thanking me."
Nodding, you bit your lip. It was weird to think you'd legally be husband and wife, despite not being in love with each other, but part of you hoped that maybe over time Zoro would come to love you, and you him, so you'd be a few steps ahead of the curve.
The clerk called you both back over a few minutes later, stamping the papers in her hands and pulling a few more. "You're legally married now, congratulations. I've given you an extra copy since you requested it, and here's an annulment form if you've decided you made a mistake. You have six months to fill out and submit it, at any courthouse, otherwise you'll have to get a divorce."
You nodded and thanked the old woman, who told you two to be careful as you both left. You weren't entirely sure why, but if Zoro knew, he kept his mouth shut about it. Once you left, Zoro started looking for a place to stay while you found somewhere you could have dinner. Neither of you planned to stay in this town for more than a night, so you weren't worried about cashing in any bounties that day.
After finding a place to eat, you stayed nearby while you wrote a brief letter to your family and sent it to them, with your marriage certificate, by your family carrier bird. You really just hoped and prayed that they would accept this information and not still demand you return home, whether they wanted to meet Zoro because they believed your letter, or they wanted you to annul the marriage immediately to marry the creep that agreed to it first. Either way, you had no plans to follow their demands or return home.
You and Zoro didn't meet up until it was about dinner time, not a word about your marriage being spoken but your plans to leave the next morning and head to the next town were the main subject. You split off again after dinner, Zoro giving you the second key to your hotel room while he took a walk, in case you wanted to go and shower or go on to bed. You did so, taking a long shower to keep yourself distracted before choosing one of the two beds as yours for the night, laying face down with your face in the pillow. By the time Zoro did return, you were nearly asleep until he woke you when he opened the door.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine…I wasn't sleeping yet."
You weren't sure if it was just you, but things felt awkward with Zoro now. It probably was just you, because he went to bed like nothing was different, telling you that he wanted to leave as soon as possible in the morning. Shells Town was the next destination for the two of you, since a Marine base was there you figured new bounty posters would be available.
You spent the night half awake, unsure of what you were feeling anymore, but you knew one thing.
It was definitely not the kind of wedding day you ever expected to have.
+!+
What do I do, what do I do??
Pacing around the Marine fortress, you didn't know if you should even try to break in and free Zoro or just wait for the month he agreed on with Helmeppo to be up. All of this because he protected a little girl from the brat's dogs and punched him in the face, the spoiled boy using it as an excuse to bring Zoro in like a criminal, and you just weren't sure what you should do. He'd told you not to interfere and when Helmeppo tried to include you in it, you were surprised Zoro threatened him further and said you had no part in the matter.
Stopping, you sighed and crouched, holding your head in your hands and whining. "What do I do…?"
"Hey, you okay??"
The voice above you sounded kind, and you looked up to see a boy with a straw hat and a scarf under his left eye, with another young boy who had pink hair and glasses. Both looked concerned, wondering why you looked like you were fighting a headache outside of the Marine fortress.
"I'm fine…"
"You sure?" The boy in the hat grinned at you, wanting to really make sure you were fine, getting eye level with you while the other boy looked nervously around. "You don't look fine!"
"Luffy!"
You laughed, sighing a bit and standing up, the boy called Luffy following suit. "Yeah, I'm…I'm sure. My friend just…the Marines got him, I'm not sure what to do."
Luffy and the other boy, Koby you learned, both questioned you until you revealed it was Zoro that was your friend, causing Luffy to get excited as he climbed the wall to look into the yard, while Koby was even more nervous than before. He couldn't even believe that you were friends with the notorious pirate hunter Zoro, let alone traveling with him.
"Hey so that's him??"
Koby climbed up with Luffy and nearly fainted, almost falling off the wall when he saw Zoro. You were so focused on the two boys you didn't notice the little girl, Rika, climbing in and over the wall with rice balls in hand. You could hear her offering them to Zoro despite him telling her to scram, before Helmeppo showed up and had her thrown back over the wall, Luffy catching her and surprising you.
"Hey, I'll take her back to her mom's place!"
Luffy nodded and gave Rika to you, letting you run off with her. You got Rika back to her mother's restaurant, making sure she was alright when Luffy and Koby arrived. Luffy told Rika that Zoro actually ate the rice balls Helmeppo ruined, which didn't really surprise you. He had a soft spot for kids, you'd noticed over time, and always tried to help them if he could.
When Helmeppo came back around and started bragging that he was going to have Zoro executed in a few days, Luffy did the same thing and punched him in the face. The three of you ran off, Luffy jumping over the wall to tell Zoro that if he helped him out, he had to join his pirate crew, but Zoro didn't get a chance to fully agree or deny before Luffy ran off to the fortress to find his swords. Koby and you attempted to untie Zoro, but he was arguing against this due to the deal he made with Helmeppo.
"Come on, I only have to last a couple weeks more!"
"He's not gonna let you go! He's gonna have you executed tomorrow!"
"What?!"
Zoro looked at you, wondering if you had heard that or if Koby was lying to him, even though the younger boy had no reason to lie to him.
"I heard every word, that's exactly what he said."
The Marines, including Axe-Hand Morgan, came after the three of you and attempted to fire at you and Koby, but you knew how to use your sword well enough to block them from hitting Koby or you with their bullets.
Luffy returned finally, blocking another set of bullets about to hit the three of you, showing off his rubber powers which actually kind of freaked you out. Zoro, finally having his three swords back, was able to get free and stop the Marines from attacking all of you any further, calling Luffy Captain after agreeing to join his pirate crew. Another shock for you, one that you'd have to deal with later on.
Luffy was the one to beat Morgan, the other Marines all cheering once they realized they were free from the tyrant's reign.
The whole thing made you smile, glad things had worked out, even as Zoro nearly passed out from hunger, making you laugh and shake your head.
"You're so lame sometimes, husband."
+!+
"So why'd you call him husband earlier??"
Face turning red, you looked at Zoro who sat next to you in Luffy's small boat that just barely comfortably held the three of you. Your husband was fast asleep, arms behind his head, but you waved your hand in front of his face to make doubly sure he was asleep, before hearing a light snore come from him.
Scooting across the boat, you sat right next to Luffy who gave you a confused smile.
"Look, Luffy…you can't tell anyone else you recruit."
"Huh?"
You were trying to keep your voice down so Zoro didn't wake, but Luffy acted like he couldn't even hear you.
"Zoro and I are married."
"You're WH–"
You threw your hands over his mouth, looking over to Zoro barely moving, but still fast asleep. You'd quieted Luffy just in time so he didn't wake your swordsman.
"We're married, but it's only because he's helping me with something. We're not in love, we're not a couple. It's…a marriage of convenience okay?"
Luffy nodded, like he understood everything you just told him. He didn't really, but he at least understood you and Zoro weren't in love, just married.
Weird, but he thought he got it.
"Please, don't tell anyone. I'm waiting to hear from my family before we annul the marriage."
That part confused him, but Luffy decided to agree and promised he wouldn't tell anyone, he didn't question you further. He thought you and Zoro were close, he wouldn't have been that surprised if you said you two were in love and together, but if you said you weren't, that this was just a friend helping another friend, he'd believe you.
That, and as soon as his stomach started growling he forgot anything else he wanted to ask.
"Do you have any food, Luffy?"
"Nope!" Luffy grinned and your face paled, looking at Zoro who just snored again and you had a feeling of dread.
"Oh lord what have we done?"
#one piece#roranoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#fem!reader#reader insert#one piece x reader#last forever
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Since all I ask for now is that Amalia gets to call the Osamodas out on their hypocrisy and betrayal, I think it's important to point out Armand never wanted Aurora to rule.
I say this in light of her father claiming she is the rightful heir to the throne when we all know she's actually not.
And I don't just mean her claim on the throne isn't legitimate because a) she's not even a Sadida, or b) she was Armand's Osamodas wife, not even his daughter, which would give her claim some credibility, but because it's clear to see she was never meant to truly be the Sadidas' queen, not even their regent.
I know this all sounds contradictory with the fact that, by virtue of marrying Armand, the Crown Prince, she eventually became his queen, but the thing is, it's plain to see not even Armand wanted her to rule the kingdom on her own, which is what her family is trying to accomplish—although there's also a very high chance they intend to rule through her, rather than let her make her own decisions.
As @vinillain and I have discussed through reblogs, it seems to be implied Aurora was never really meant to rule: not only wasn't she a candidate for becoming her own people's queen, but it is clear to see she was only meant to be given an important position in court but with none of the responsibilities expected from such duty.
This can be seen in her role in seasons 3 and 4; despite being Armand's wife and loving him, she never really acted like a true queen. In season 3 she acted conniving and pretended to have Amalia and the kingdom's best interests in mind when, deep down, all she cared about was strengthening her and her family's power over Sadida politics. And in season 4 she remained passive, aloof, and emotionless throughout. At no point was she shown to feel genuine concern for her husband's people even in the face of an imminent threat.
The most active role she's taken ever since she debuted was playing matchmaker for an unwilling Amalia and trying to find more about the Eliaculus.
From what we've seen so far it's easy to conclude she was always meant to be Armand's consort, but never his actual partner. She was essentially sent to the Sadidas to act as their king's arm candy. Whatever power gap was between them, she never made any efforts to breach it and show her worth.
For all she and her family look down on Amalia, Aurora herself never matured enough to become a suitable ruler, whereas Amalia eventually grew into her mother's mantle; even when his father was still alive, she had already become Queen of the Sadidas.
And I think despite his love for her, Armand knew this. He knew she could never rule the kingdom without him; knew she never should rule his kingdom without him.
Despite his many flaws and not-so-stellar moments, Armand was raised to be king. He was never stupid. He knew the inner workings of politics in and out and how to navigate them.
This is apparent in his interactions with the Osamodas King.
While he maintained a cool head throughout, it was clear to see Armand saw right through his father-in-law's ill-veiled condescension towards his people and his desire to control his kingdom. Which is why I wouldn't be surprised if he had never truly trusted Aurora despite coming to love her.
Because of everything his people had gone through, Armand was perfectly aware his kingdom was practically of no importance to the other races, for they never sent their support when they needed it most. So it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume Armand knew all along the Osamodas' intentions behind marrying him to Aurora went beyond simply providing him with a queen.
Which is why I believe he never intended to let Aurora become regent if he was no longer around.
But my greatest evidence are his last words to Amalia as he was about to sacrifice himself and he put her to safety. I don't have the screenshots for it (so I'd appreciate if anyone could provide them), but he essentially told Amalia she would be their next queen.
That's it. That's all he said. He never said, "Please, help Aurora out", or "You two are co-rulers now", or even "You have my permission to fuck Yugo senseless". He told his sister it was up to her to rule their people, not his wife.
Meaning, between her being the last remaining Sheran Sharm, the second in line when her brother was still alive, and Armand's words, Amalia is the kingdom's rightful ruler, not Aurora. It was never Aurora.
#wakfu#wakfu season 4#wakfu webtoon#wakfu spoilers#wakfu analysis#wakfu the great wave#wakfu la grande vague#armand sheran sharm#amalia sheran sharm#yugo the eliatrope#aurora
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What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 02
Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @roryculkinsgf @ultrakissed @tempt-ress
Samuel was surprised when he heard they were baptizing Y/n into their church. She was apparently had already been baptized but she was urged into getting re-baptized so she could truly be apart of their family. This was a very special event that he would typically really enjoy but the uniform that they had to wear was always a pain to have to pull out. Having so many children and wearing a white suit was dangerous.
"Samuel, be sure to pull that hair back son." His father reminded him as they entered the church. He walked towards the bathroom and noticed Y/n trying to take a peak out of the curtains to see just how many people were already settled into the church pews. Samuel snuck up behind her and she jumped when he put his hands on her sides.
"Samuel! You scared the life out of me!" Y/n she gripped her chest and he smirked. She was dressed in the traditional white gown, not a single piece of makeup on her face, she looked angelic to him in this moment.
"You seem nervous. You've done this before right? It's not that big of a deal." Samuel could tell she was anxious by how she rang her hands out.
"Yes but this is different. It feels...different." She insisted. Samuel pushed the door closed behind himself so that it was just the two of them in the bathroom now.
"You're right. This is different but you aren't alone. You're joining this family we have here and we will never let you feel an ounce of fear ever again." Samuel rubbed her arms watching her take deep, calming breaths. He leaned his head against the side of her temple and she closed her eyes.
"You certainly have a way of reassuring someone." She smiled.
"You're going to be just fine Y/n. Hopefully you remembered to leave the red bra and panties at home today." He teased making her open her eyes.
"I did actually." She turned her head almost daring him to check. Samuel ran his hands down her the front of her gown and felt no resistance. His eyebrow went up slightly as he let his hand root to the bottom of her gown just to feel that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. He felt his cock stiffen just touching her bare skin and she smirked.
"You do realize the moment that water cleanses you, the entirety of the church will be able to see you in all your glory." Samuel's fingers grazed her cunt and could feel the slickness between her folds.
"Naked in rebirth is how it should be." Y/n teased. Samuel couldn't help but push his fingers inside of her. She gasped gripping his wrist and throwing her head back.
"What sinful things have you been thinking about for you to be this wet?" Samuel pumped his fingers inside of her and used his thumb on her clit as she bucked her hips into his palm.
"I-I can't...oh Samuel." She turned her head to face him and he smiled watching her trying to contain her moans to an acceptable level as she rode his hand.
"Be a good girl and stay quiet." Samuel leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck as she whimpered. When she started cumming, he could feel her quaking around his fingers and he couldn't help but feel the front of his pants becoming damp with precum wishing his cock was buried deep inside of her cunt to feel the squeeze of her orgasm. She leaned forward and bit her hand to keep from moaning out loud before crumbling against the sink. Samuel removed his finger slowly and brought them to his lips, sucking her juices from them.
"Sweet...just as the lord intended." He smirked turning to the mirror and pinning his hair back while she collected herself next to him.
"You...you asked me what sinful things I was thinking about...it was you. You taking my body and thusting into me, cumming inside of me and knowing that I would be bathed in the holy water with your cum flowing down my legs.." Y/n explained. Samuel bit his lip.
"Is that so? Is that something you want? You want my cum inside of you?" He asked pushing her hair to the side.
"More than anything." She gripped his hand and kissed it. He thought about taking her right then and there but the organ music started to play and he knew things were getting started. He could see her stiffen knowing she had run out of time.
"You've got to go!" She fixed her gown and Samuel smiled impressed by her commitment to being baptized despite just being fingered in the church bathroom. He returned to his seat, hair now pinned back and uncomfortable hard on finally dying down as he sat next to his brothers.
He watched her go through the process of becoming an official member of their church and once she emerged from the vat of holy water, her white gown now soaked and clinging to her naked body, he could see her nipples and curves calling to him, begging him to be licked and sucked.
His brothers all shuffled a bit next to him, also feeling the arousal of her naked form but he had to smile to himself as her eyes met his. She belonged to him and no one else but God.
#TV Series: Under the Banners of Heaven#Samuel Lafferty#Samuel Lafferty x Y/N#What it Cost#What it Cost mini series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#Under the Banners of Heaven
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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.
Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.
People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.
--
I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.
Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.
Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.
However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.
--
As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.
Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.
It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.
It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.
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— B A S I C S
Name: Bellinor Lanverlais
Nicknames: Dusk, which is the name he goes by in almost all circumstances. The vast majority of people don't know his actual first name.
Age: 39, I'll tick him over to 40 when Dawntrail starts. Happy birthday?
Nameday: 21st Sun of the Second Umbral Moon
Race: Elezen, Wildwoodishgardian
Gender: Dude
Orientation: Pansexual, polyamorous
Profession: Gunbreaker, will still do DRK and DRG things occasionally. Also a carpenter.
— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S
Hair: Blondie blond blond with some white highlights that he doesn't want to think about but luckily blend in pretty well. He also has a beard. He will never shave it.
Eyes: Dark Green
Skin: Light skinned, but does look like he goes into the sun occasionally. He promises he goes into the sun occasionally.
Tattoos/scars: Nope!
— F A M I L Y
Parents: Extremely alive. His father is named Bernon, and he was a pikeman in the Ishgardian military until he and his wife deserted left, and he is currently a maverick Wood Wailer who should probably hand in his badge. His mother is named Gwenolie, she was a chirugeon in Ishgard, which is how she met Bernon in the first place. She retired completely upon reaching Gridania ... as far as Gridania knows, at least.
Siblings: His twin sister, Orianne. Her nickname, of course, is Dawn. She's a botanist most of the time, unless she feels like the Scions are not doing a good enough job keeping an eye on her brother. Then she's a lancer who recently picked up reaper, since it's hard to feel like you're pulling your weight when your brother and his boyfriend bro are both extra special dragoons, you know?
Grandparents: ALSO VERY ALIVE, although they're all getting on in years. Gwenolie's parents are Lionnet and Aurelle Tirauland. Lionnet is a (mostly) retired chocobo trainer, Aurelle is a retired knight. Bernon's parents are Ciceroix and Iliette Lanverlais. Ciceroix was also a pikeman in the military (now retired) and Iliette is a retired archer.
In-laws and Other: It's kinda funny this asks for in-laws but not ... partners? Farron is Dusk's almost-husband, which makes Farron's semi-adopted dad, Bjalla, Dusk's almost-father-in-law. Farron also has two kids, twins, named Sverre and Kara, who seem keen to adopt Dusk. The twins live on the First. It's a whole thing. And Estinien is ... <waves hand vaguely>.
Pets: Dusk and Farron are currently raising two amaro babies, which probably count. Their names are Eo Lad and Sul Lad, and they're adorable. There's also Duck, of course, but he's not a pet.
— S K I L L S
Abilities: He has an excellent memory for names and visuals. He is an excellent carpenter. He's also usually pretty good in social situations.
Hobbies: He enjoys woodworking, playing piano or cello, or painting when it's Hobby Time.
— T R A I T S
Most Positive Traits: Kind, determined, resilient.
Most Negative Traits: Sore loser, has a very difficult time telling concise stories, tends to hide when he's Not Alright from most people.
— L I K E S
Colors: Greens and blues.
Smells: Sawdust, and the way super cold, crisp air smells.
Textures: I have never thought about this question, and I do not intend to start. He probably likes when he runs a hand over something he's sanded and it feels perfect, though. Does that count?
Drinks: Likes finding new teas to try. Also a closet wine snob.
— O T H E R D E T A I L S
Smokes: Not tobacco! :D
Drinks: As mentioned, he is into wine. He usually stops drinking once he feels himself getting tipsy, but ... not always.
Drugs: don't worry about it
Mount Issuance: His chocobo Pike, of course. He also has an amber draught chocobo named Lance.
Been Arrested: Uhhh unless that one time in Ul'dah counts, nope!
I was tagged by @alixennial, thank you! I don't want to tag every single FFXIV mutual I have, so uh ... if you're one of them, do the thing if you want. :P
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I've been an Invader Zim fan since 2011.
I was 15-16 at that time, and though I did thoroughly enjoy the show, I was not mature enough to really get it. Sure, it was funny, but I didn't pick up on the subtleties and style of humor beyond the surface level. I liked the wackiness and the characters, but I SURELY wasn't at a point of being able to deconstruct themes or analyze character motivations and narratives (like I very much enjoy doing now). I remember discovering an artist on DeviantArt who drew cute ZaGr stuff, so that was the pairing I liked too. I didn't think too deeply about much, and honestly, I don't think the majority of fans (if they were my age or younger, that is) did either. Everything was taken as dumb and silly for the most part, and that IS truthfully a major component of the show itself.
Getting back into Invader Zim within this past year though, I'm looking at it through a WILDLY different lens. I like Invader Zim for what it is and how it's intended to be perceived. I like that the show is meant to be dark, satirical, and tragic at the same time that it's silly, chaotic, and nonsensical. Almost everything that happens onscreen is written in to be funny above all else. (I've mentioned before that I've been watching Jhonen's Twitch streams for a while now, and I have a MUCH better understanding of his sense of humor bc of that. IZ makes way more sense if you can sorta see things from JV's perspective, lol.)
But at the same time, I also like Invader Zim for what it offers in terms of interpretation and what it can imply (intentionally or not). There is genuinely SO MUCH DEPTH to this dorky lil cartoon that a casual viewer wouldn't immediately pick up on. And a lot of that depth, I think, was not woven in purposely. The show itself was never meant to be taken so seriously. Nevertheless, I'm constantly fascinated by what IZ implies about good and evil, the nature of general society, and especially how it goes about demonstrating the devastating effects of social isolation and bullying. Meta for this series is always pretty damn *chef's kiss.* And what's even more interesting is how viewers manipulate canon to expand upon this world and these characters.
Given that I've come to understand Invader Zim better, I've also grown very fond of ZaDr. Now, while I wouldn't want to see this pairing happen in canon material, I love the potential it possesses in transformative contexts.
In reality, I get that these characters were intended to have a deep hatred for one another and a never-ending rivalry for the sake of comedy and not much else. It's an extraterrestrial perpetually throwing hands with a 12 year old because he's incompetent and his plans often fail. And that's funny. That's the point. But beyond that, canonically, these are two characters who are mirrors of each other; they're both treated like garbage by their respective peers, and they both crave acknowledgment, validation, and a sense of purpose. Throughout their story, they find they're only able to obtain these things from each other, so as a consequence of their similar personalities, they become utterly, unhingedly obsessed with each other (to a sometimes unhealthy degree). They are undeniably forever intertwined by design of how the show is set up.
And because of that, shipping of these characters was, frankly, inevitable in fandom spaces. I myself fell victim to their appeal too. (Sorry, Jhonen. 😅)
I'm not gonna go into any discourse surrounding this pairing because there's already PLENTY of that to go around online. Everyone has their own opinion on the subject, and that's fine. I respect that. Point is, even though I understand and appreciate what Zim and Dib are supposed to be in the context of the show, I also enjoy the idea of them as friends and romantic partners outside of and beyond the confines of canon.
And that's something that I think many fans who are biased toward ZaDr would also agree with! Actually, I'd say the majority of people who ship characters in ANY media would concur. We like the idea of seeing how specific relationships could develop over time and/or within different settings and circumstances. It's NOT always about wanting to see a relationship unfold on screen or in fan works strictly adhering to canon. It's about stretching canon, or in some cases, scratching canon entirely however you see fit! Who cares! It's fiction!
For me personally, I enjoy ZaDr because its attributes fall into so many trope categories that I've come to adore over the years (ones that I either wasn't aware of when I was younger, or that I didn't enjoy in the same intensity as I do now). Zim and Dib are, or could be, depending on context:
Codependent toxic soulmates
Human/non-human
Shared history
Classic enemies to lovers (or, as I often prefer it, enemies to friends to lovers)
Bicker couple
Battle couple, when put in the right setting for it
Violence as a love language
Smol and tol
The wild card paired with the rational one, the best part about this being that sometimes the more rational one is Dib, and sometimes it's Zim bc they're both a special flavor of insane
Make each other worse/stupider when together, tho oddly, they also kinda bring out the best in each other too
And, my personal favorites, the potential for hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending, with the comfort and happiness aspects ultimately coming from each other
I like what these characters could be, to and for each other, apart from their roles in the show.
I would never want to explore a dynamic between Zim and Dib that goes beyond "frenemies" territory in canon (because that doesn't fit what the show is, and I do appreciate the integrity of Jhonen's vision). The subtle foundation for them is there, it's just that it can't really work unless a few key details are changed or manipulated, and, well...
I sure as hell like exploring every bit of that expanded potential in fan works because it's fun to imagine the various directions things could go if they were different!
This isn't me, like... trying to defend my (or anyone else's) enjoyment of this particular ship or trying to convince people to like it. Or the show for that matter! To each their own, truly. And I'm obv aware of the controversy ZaDr often incites and why. Everyone has valid reasons for liking OR not liking it, and I accept differing viewpoints on it. It's a touchy, nuanced subject to be sure. But this isn't about that.
I don't really know what this is, actually, aside from a very long very weird essay, lol. I just wanted to process why and how all of this works for me with my changed perspective from when I was first introduced to Invader Zim in my teens up until now.
It's strange, looking back. I didn't get ZaDr years ago. But I do now, and so much of it, at least from my perspective, has to do with taking the crumbs present in canon (that are undeniably there, whether you choose to acknowledge them or not, and whether they're intentional or not) and absolutely running with them to the ends of your own wild imagination.
#invader zim#invader zim meta#zadr#iz zadr#zim#dib membrane#my posts#this is... A LOT but i just needed to work thru it for my own sanity lol#said it before and i'll say it again: pls utilize the tag blocking function however you need to bc i KNOW this can be very Yikes for some#but at the same time this is my blog and i'm gonna do what i want :P
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you don't have to post this, but I thought it would be funny!!!
Nimblekit: I just scream a lot... I just, scream... a lot
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Goldshine: With all due respect, which is none,
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Sparkspeckle: You know how someone can say “I respectfully disagree”? What about “I disrespectfully agree” for when you hate someone but they are unfortunately correct.
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Shadebreak: I am always up for potential rule breaking.
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Goldshine: Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself, I do it regularly.
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Nimblekit: 80% of people are actually ugly because of their face, you know.
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Pearlstar: Trans people? In my clan? It’s more likely than you think.
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Blisswhistle: For the last time, you can’t die of adhd.
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Sparkspeckle: You can do whatever you want forever :D
Stormwhisper: I love you, but that is not helpful.
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Stormwhisper, too nervous to ask for emotional support: Man, it smells like wrongdog in here.
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Gravel: Aren’t you like 5’2?
Firebeetle: I self identify as tall.
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Pearlstar: Every day my joints are shocked and disgusted that I would use them for their intended purpose.
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Sparkspeckle: You can never lose an argument if you say “shut up nerd” at the end.
Icesheep: Yes you can.
Sparkspeckle: Shut up nerd.
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Goldshine: In my defense, your honor, I simply do not care enough.
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Nimblekit: Your honor, in my defense, who cares like omfgggggggg who cares????????? Like come onnn.
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Skykit: Are you a girl or a boy?
Shadebreak: Uhh, well some people aren’t girls or boys!
Skykit: Wow, just like snails...
Shadebreak: ???
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Straight Man: Hey
Titania: That’s enough.
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Lilacpaw: I respect perfume commercials being like, we can’t show you a smell, mind if we just go insane for 30 seconds?
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Shadekit: Hey we are all really small, do you wanna sleep in a pile.
Icekit, Stormkit and Sparkkit: Yes.
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Blisswhistle: “Fuck it, we ball” (Malnourished, heavy eye bags, dehydrated, on the verge of insanity.)
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Goldshine: Evil infodumping where you just tell lies.
Sparkspeckle: Tiktok
Icesheep: 5-minute crafts
Shadebreak: Resume
Stormwhisper: Men
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Nimblekit: I fucking hate the hand that feeds me, I think i’ll do something fucked up to it.
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Nimblekit: Sick injury bro, would be a shame if i added insult to it.
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Pearlstar: I laugh at my own jokes because I am my target audience. Y’all just happen to be there fr.
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Gravel: I wish they sold offbrand cars, get me a damn honder.
Firebeetle: Pulling up in the revolver.
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Shadebreak: When two buses pass each other and the bus drivers don’t wave at each other, like omg... did you guys break up...
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Blisswhistle: I can still crack a joke mid-breakdown, that’s why everyone is lucky to have me in their lives.
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Gravel: They don’t kill the presidents like they used to.
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Berrykit: The LMAO+ community.
Nimblekit: It’s LMFAO+ this is party rock erasure.
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Sparkspeckle: It’s harder than you think to communicate with someone who isn’t familiar with the world of spongebob.
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Goldshine: Pipe down your honor, you weren’t even there.
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Goldshine: JFK?? Like from umbrella academy?? Haha... you know he’s not... real, right?
Stormwhisper: Wait, I though JFK was from clone high??
Sparkspeckle: JFK, as in Jesus Fucking Khrist, from the bible?
Icesheep: Isn’t JFK that fried chicken fast food chain.
Shadebreak: Guys cmon, it’s Jennedy Fennedy Kennedy, you gotta know this.
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Goldshine: Mfs be named “James” and it only be one dude.
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Nimblekit: Does violence have to be the last resort, can’t it be like third.
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Lilacpaw: Free my man, he did all of it but I don’t care.
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Pearlstar: Let me get this straight. Grabs the nearest heterosexual. Now, where were we. (He is holding nobody)
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Blisswhistle: I’m so done with self care, it’s time for others harm.
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Shadebreak: Fun fact. Shut the fuck-
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Sparkspeckle: Nuh uh
Icesheep: FYM “NUH UH”???
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-⚡ anon
Genuinely made me laugh, I love these
#blisswhistle telling ‘for the last time you can’t die of adhd’ to Cresskit and Skykit#and Stormwhisper says in the background ‘wait you can’t?’#this is all very accurate lol#aphidasks
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The amount of issues that could be avoided if people had the decency and maturity to speak to each other like civilized human beings instead of resorting to the more commonly used methods here, like anon hate, vagueing, and passive-aggressive posts that are clearly targeting a person or group.
In the three years I have been on this hellsite, I have witnessed how these "methods" turn minor issues into outright, unnecessary wars.
Here is some information for those who are unaware:
Anon hate is douchey and wrong. If you send it, you're a douche and wrong. Period. If you can't understand that, please stop reading because you are already beyond help.
Unless someone has notifications set for you, there is an excellent chance that your intended target will not even see your vague/passive-aggressive rants.
Then, when said vague/passive-aggressive rant goes unanswered and ignored, the person or mob behind it festers, simmers, and becomes more outraged.
Bruh. They probably never even saw it, and if they did, they may not known it was directed at them. Now, the problem is 10 times bigger and, best of all, the original problem was never even addressed, much less solved!
Here's another tip:
Don't always assume the worst about someone!
Especially when you never bothered to communicate with them. You're making blind assumptions when you have little or no facts. Trust me, unless you're a mind reader, you don't know. You're not that smart, babes. Trust me. I'm not, either. TALK like grownups. It's much easier than all the bullshit that arises because of the above.
Now, you may be saying, "Hey, yeah, but aren't you vagueing/targeting right now, too?"
I'm sure some will take it that way. Since they likely won't reach out to me directly, they'll take their skewed logic as gospel and insist that they know my motivation. They'll also insist it's regarding "this" fandom event or whatever our drama du jour is.
Well, absolutely no one knows my motivation except me. So I'll make it clear. This is not geared toward any specific event, past or present, but an amalgamation of everything I've seen and experienced in the past three years. My motivation is two-fold. 1) I'm letting off steam, but, more importantly, 2) it is my sincere hope that people will see this, think about how they act and interact with others, and try to be better people.
I'm sure the fandom mind readers will dismiss what I just said and assign motivation to me. Have at it. I don't care.
No one knows my motivation except me, and no one knows my desired end goal, either. My desired end goal Is that everyone, myself included, will reflect more on how they behave and treat other people. I assure you, doing this will save others, the fandom, and, more importantly, it will save yourself a whole hell of a lot of unnecessary distress.
It's not that hard. Be better.
#rambling#fandom discourse#choices fandom#playchoices#i'm sure this is other fandoms too#it's not that hard to be decent people#it's really really not
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Updated rambly post about Morwen after her second encounter with Glaurung! I’m still working on my thoughts about this, I hope it’s ok!
I made some posts awhile back (here was the first)wondering about what exactly happened to Morwen between the encounter with Glaurung and her meeting Húrin again in Brethil. I’ve been thinking about it to the extent that I even have a tag for it now; and they saw her no more
Perhaps Morwen is hidden from Mablung either due to the lingering power of Glaurung or due to the curse, regardless of whether she was intentionally avoiding him. This is probably the reading Tolkien intended in my opinion.
Perhaps Morwen ended up imprisoned or trapped in Brethil similar to Húrin in the Wanderings. nothing stated or implied in canon leads this way and one would assume that there would be if the reader was meant to infer something like this. Purely in terms of headcanon or speculation though, I’d always thought that Avranc’s utter rage towards Húrin’s accusations to the point where he wants Húrin dead made more sense if they were either true or Avranc thought they were true.
Maybe Glaurung is right and Mablung is just really bad at his job. Morwen was nearby the whole time but either successfully hid from him or he just missed her (this is a joke to be clear)
but I feel like I left out another possibility
I actually am playing with the idea that in The Children of Húrin, like in earlier drafts, Morwen attempts to confront Glaurung to protect Niënor and was then thrown aside by the dragon, temporarily falling unconscious under the spell and waking up with little memory afterwards. She has the memory of experience within her body. She remembers how to survive in the wilds. She does not remember who taught her. She feels acutely the loss of Niënor and the worry for Túrin that brought her to these strange lands. She cannot remember her children’s names. Her own name forms upon her lips at times. She does not feel it as hers.
She travels through the ruins of what was the kingdom of Nargothrond. Birds have fled the dragon mist and flowers have withered in the spring. She remembers to eat rarely. She knows enough to be troubled by this.
Morwen regains her memories slowly. The faces of her children, of Húrin, Rían, Aerin, even her parents, return to her gradually, first as vague as shadows but then with the knowledge and certainty of their names.
She remembers the shadow of Glaurung above her as a child before she remembers that day she was thrown from her horse and everything was lost.
There are things that stay lost. She will never acknowledge them until she dies. They cut at her in the night. Her pride is unshaken. Her certainty is nigh shattered
Perhaps it is only when she sees the names on the stone in Brethil, that she fully remembers. Perhaps she remembers months before. She is barely aware of the passing of the seasons. There are moments where she is barely aware of herself. She wakes in places she does not remember falling asleep in, to injuries she has no memory of receiving
…but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lómin.
(That line also gets me so much. It just feels like she was erased entirely from the memories and places where she had been but at the same time her loss and vanishing is still felt acutely! I know that seems contradictory and I apologize if it’s confusing but that line just makes me feel both those axises of loss at the same time)
A grey wraith upon a mad steed…
#the silmarillion#the children of húrin#morwen#Glaurung#houseless for exiles#and they saw her no more#mentioned#Húrin#Aerin#Mablung#musing and meta#the wanderings of húrin
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Timeswap!Vettonso(I blame @ayceeofspades for this)
Thoughts:
References HEHEHEHE:
So the dynamics would be: STR!Seb x Aston!Fernando and Post-Retirement!Seb x Ferarri!Fernando(~2011-2012)
The former would be a Seb who is very hungry for Fernando's attention, but now he's with a Fernando is actually now very willing to give him that attention. Fernando is constantly repeating in his head: "Don't fuck the twink don't fuck the twink don't fuck the twink", but every time they end up on the podium together, Seb always ends up being all over him and "accidentally" groping him. So Seb is still a brat but is with a Fernando who's not gonna just be cold to him but will indulge him instead 🤭
The latter is more angsty AAAHHH!! Cause its a Fernando who is in Ferrari hell and Seb who is post-catharsis. And to quote C, Fernando is like "why are you so happy??? Did you win!?" and Seb responds: "no :)" But also I am not immune to Seb being coy and playing with Fernando. He now understands why Fernando was the way he was back then because he's now gone through the same thing with Ferrari, but also wants him to stop being so gloomy and angsty about it.
Don't ask about how these AUs work, just know that they have knowledge of what their original counterparts were like so it's weird for the younger versions to get to see what ends up happening to the other, and then allows the olders to gain a new perspective instead of their biased memories(i.e.: "you're not who I was villainizing you as in my head" = both of them realize that they were building the other up as such an antagonist in their head but then, oh, he's just like me fr)(but for younger Seb, Fernando realizes Seb just wanted to be friends :( and so now he's trying to be more of a mentor.)
#i also blame claire for making me think of str/rbr seb with current fernando AAAAAHHHHH#theres just something to me about him interacting with a fernando who is less volatile and more giving#you guys are really getting the full scope of vettonso AUs from me LOL#i am feeding every possible avenue djfjkgkg#timeswap au. historical au. canon art. etc etc.#also wow did you see that i overcame my fear of drawing racesuits? LMAO#ive been avoiding them until now but was like oh uh not that bad actually#also i swear to you i have a full art style LMAO i just feel weird posting chibis so much when i never really drew them before#also these didnt come to me easily so i spent like....way too much time#and now its way later than i intended#and like im the type to not really feel bodily tired but rn i actually just feel like loopy LOL#but i cannot start chibis without finishing them. bcs ill just never finish them#for c <3 thank you for always talking w me abt vettonso and entertaining all my random AUs hehehe#and also thank you cofi for your insights as well 🙏🙏🙏#vettonso#f1#formula 1#formula 1 fanart#f1 fanart#sebastian vettel#fernando alonso#catie.art.#catie.rambling.txt
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[Start ID. A drawing of @mieczmaszyna 's character Izzy. In the words of its creator, Izzy is a humanoid robot with a white chassis, oval head, black headset, square green glasses, claws, and a tail resembling a cable plug. Ai wears a cowboy hat, vest decorated by a star and bottle cap, pants with tassels, spurred boots, and a red bandanna. He's viewed from the side, kicking up one leg and holding both arms out in front of itself to shoot finger guns, looking excited and rather jaunty. The background is a dull yellow-green, muddied by the warm reddish tone of the drawing, and in paler green are the words "BANG BANG!!" by ais arms. End ID]
robot cowboy!!!
#peridots-art#bots#others' ocs#izzy#mieczmaszyna#gotta admit doing all the shading here was. very fun. insert medic hoo noise#i don't know if people usually read these but @ the intended recipient of this post! if you are!!#i remember first liking your art a year ago (actually only about a week off now lol) when it crossed my dash for the first (/only) time#and then found it again whilst enjoying the funky robot dudes (yesm/p03) and their respective games and I fell in Love with your style#i also was always enthused by the number of my fixations that you also liked! fnv! insc! ultkll! tf2 and hylics which i've never played!#and then there's hk which has been my most prominent special interest for close to two years so. safe to say that was. AWESOME to see#ALSO ALSO!! i think we may be like. mutuals-in-law*2??#by which i mean one of my two closest friends on this site (holly) is mutuals with a cool artist (sodapop)#who i learned by accident that you've sent asks to before. either way it's cool :]#reserving the caption 'robot cowboys my beloved' for the future cause there are too many! victor and p03 and my own guy atoya and now this?#it is a wonderful problem. anyway i'm also looking at P3RI and realizing how many traits they and izzy share by accident lol#think. that should be all the tags (see: incoherent rambling). really like your stuff and have been meaning to draw something for you for#a while just got nervous 👍
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it's like. everything happens so much. it's all happening right now but at the same time nothing is happening whatsoever. it's a liminal space of an existence. it's slowly crushing me under the weight but when I look up there's nothing actually bearing down on me. there shouldn't be any weight. something is wrong but nothing has happened. I'm simultaneously overwhelmed and utterly bored. nothing is happening and maybe that's the everything that's happening. maybe the everything is the nothing. we aren't there yet but it's all so imminent. either everything is going to crash down or nothing is. I'm just waiting to figure out which.
#I refuse to be upset at anyone. I have so much love in my heart#but I'm going to pack formal clothes for my sister in my own bag just in case. she doesn't need to know that.#you couldn't pay me to care or to stop caring. it's cognitive dissonance#because I know this won't always affect me but it's my whole world right now#I say I don't care and I mean it but at the same time I care more than anything else#it's actually almost scary how much I relate to dark alley#not in a ''I'm in a mentally dark or dangerous place'' way but in a ''yeah I compare myself to others too much'' way#and then I try to make excuses so it can make sense to other people so they won't think the worst of me#like literally I'm trying not to think about fall but it's right around the corner and I'm. falling into it I guess#pun intended of course. I don't want to lose all my friends#I want to be one of the kids who gets invited to people's houses for lunch after church and I know I never will be#because that's the kind of thing that's only for the kids who are going someplace. not the ones who stay#I'm feeling very selfish and it's probably bc I'm tired lol this happens sometimes#I'm gonna make dinner for my family and then I'll feel better skskskskk#Lu rambles#sometimes I think I could write poetry#I feel like once my vacation is actually imminent I'll feel better I just haaate the point we're at right now#which is like. it's SOON but not THAT SOON so I feel like I can't do anything bc I'm just waiting for things to get going :/
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