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#And put the differences behind for greater good.
stucky-headcanon-bot · 9 months
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nisuna · 2 months
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Mouth watering 🤤🤤 I'm really in the mood to turn this into a full-length fic, but my porn with plot stuff usually doesn't do that well, so here's some of my thoughts instead<3 Depending on if this does well or not I might do it! (But, tbh I might do it regardless because I love this idea and it's one of my top favourite scenarios to think about 👀👀 so who knows? Maybe some of you will find this interesting. Please lmk!)
TW: cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader, oral f&m receiving, period sex and oral, breeding kink, power imbalance, dumbification, public sex, mentions of pregnancy, different positions, name calling, degradation, mirror sex, virginity loss, manipulation
<3masterlist<3
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--------------------18+ ONLY MDNI--------------------
cult leader!geto, who didn't pay much attention to you at first when you came to his shrine with the nasty little curse on your shoulder that's been plaguing you for the past few weeks. cl!geto who wanted to have as little to do with people like you and disposed of it with the snap of his fingers.
A weight was literally lifted off your shoulder as you smiled and reached out to grab his hands to thank him, bowing your head. Usually, he would've pulled his hands away and politely told you off not to touch him. But he allowed it this once. There was something about you he couldn't put his finger on just yet. Who would've thought that if he hadn't done that, it would've never come to this.
cl!geto, who noticed you coming back each week with a new complaint, immediately seeing right through your lies, but indulging you nonetheless. cl!geto, who grew increasingly interested in you, inviting you over to show you his organisation.
cl!geto, who made you suck his cock on the first occasion he got. you were so obediend and dumb. he got off on how naive and blinded you were by him, your lord and savior.
cl!geto, who was taken aback when you confessed you were still a virgin. cl!geto who made a religious ritual out of taking your virginity, manipulating and fucking you stupid from then on out.
cl!geto, who enjoyed you doing all the work while riding or squatting on his cock. cl!geto who fucked you mercilessly, saying it was for the greater good of the organisation. cl!geto, who started fucking and eating you out while you were on your period, saying you were his blood sacrifice. and who were you to deny your lord.
cl!geto, who started fucking you more vigurously himself. be it from behind or with him on top. any position that asserted dominance over you, he tried. and he made sure to let you know how much of a lowlife you were compared to him. and you just nodded, blinking up at him through your eyelashes as you sucked on his thick fingers.
"You're so good for me, pet. Keep going."
pet, he called you because that's all you were to him. you were his plaything, nothing more.
cl!geto whose huge hands would roam your body however they pleased. his long fingers working you open until you were ready to take him. cl!geto, who loved feeling your soft and tiny body against his massive frame. cl!geto who would relish in seeing his thick cock through your belly whenever he fucked you so deeply, you could almost feel his tip hit your cervix.
cl!geto who made a public display of fucking you in front of his followers. cl!geto who marked you up with purple marks for everyone to see. however, some didn't understand why he chose you of all people voicing their disapproval. cl!geto, who over time grew fond of a lowly human like you but kept denying his growing feelings for you.
cl!geto, who didn't think it would bother him as much as it did when someone else tried to touch you. his followers starting to see you as public property, which was meant to be shared. cl!geto who felt his blood boil when someone dared to kiss you in front of him, taunting him that he fell in love with a non-sorcerer, which only earned the person a slap across their face as he pulled you close.
"No, it can't be." he thought as the person laughed," Oh, so it is true!" cl!geto, who was shocked when you spoke up.
"Of course not, that couldn't be! Right, Geto-sama?" right, he couldn't fall for someone like you. you were the very thing he swore to destroy. this shouldn't have happened.
gl!geto who avoided kissing you and only saw sex as an act of service and obedience. cl!geto, whose eyes widened in shock when you accidentally leaned in, cradling his face in your hands when you got too overwhelmed with pleasure as he came deep inside.
when you snapped out of it, you were terrified. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Geto-sama, please forgive me-"
as you were about to pull your hands away from his face, he stopped you. you were trembling in his grasp, expecting the worst. but you were surprised by him pressing his lips against yours and holding your hand in place on his cheek. the kiss was hungry, his tongue prying your mouth open and all you could do was moan and just take it.
"You surprised me for sure, pet. But let's continue, I quite liked it.", he mumbled.
as you were making out, you felt him harden inside of you again.
cl!geto, who thought "fuck it", abandoning his principles each time he crashed his lips against yours and made you cream on his cock over and over.
cl!geto, who got tired of hearing you moan "geto-sama" like all of his other followers and made you call him suguru whenever you two were alone.
"AH- Geto-sama"
"Try Suguru."
"Su- what? Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too-"
"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it. But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only.
"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."
cl!geto, who soon deemed you worthy of carrying his offspring and telling you how big of an honour it was. cl!geto who filled you up over and over. and you taking it so well, always begging for more.
cl!geto who would fuck you in front of the mirror while groaning into your ear.
"Look at you, I can't wait until I can see you plump with my children."
cl!geto who didn't stop fucking you even throughout your pregnancy. cl!geto who got incredibly aroused at the sight of your body and belly plumpening up over time.
cl!geto, who massaged your aching breasts and hips religiously every night. cl!geto who stopped fucking you in front of everyone and stopped showing you off as he wanted to have you all to himself.
cl!geto, who began questioning his whole mission, when you first confessed your love for him. cl!geto, who soon gave in and said that he loved you as well for the first time.
"I'm a man of exceptional greed. If I had it my way, I would have you look and smile at me only."
cl!geto, who got incredibly protective over you. "Don't ever go anywhere without me."
"Where could I possibly want to go without you?", you mumbled, falling asleep in his arms.
cl!geto, who was overjoyed when he saw his child having your eyes and his features. cl!geto, who made his followers worship you just as much as they did him. cl!geto, who threatened and intimidated anyone who refused.
cl!geto, who made you his wife and mother of many more of his children.
cl!geto, who never stopped loving you until his final breath.
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I'd love to hear your thoughts!!<3
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utterlyazriel · 4 months
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love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight)
sorry if ur seeing this twice !! i am a finicky gal and was tooo sad it didn't appear in the tags so forgive me for the repost <3 it's good ol' hurt/comfort
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It's unnerving.
To know something is somehow... wrong and yet, not be able to put your finger on it. Something being off.
There had been something off since your return from the Illyrian Mountains. Like a scar you hadn't ever remembered getting, like a lump in your bed that hadn't been there before.
You had returned to the Night Court only the night before, far later than expected. It had been near twilight, yourself kept late in the war-camps dealing with the unpleasant likes of Lord Devlon. All you wanted to do was to crawl into your waiting bed.
But your bed wasn't empty.
The perfect shape of your mate, tucked beneath the blankets, is one you could recognize in the dark. Even then, you had felt the strange difference — a tickle along the nape of your neck, enough to make you shiver.
Drained of your energy, you carelessly ignore it. Chalk it up to the bad feeling you got every time you went back to those gods forsaken war-camps.
Beyond their terrible ways and nearly tyrannical leaders, your own mate's history there was enough to make you want to burn it to the ground. To scorch and salt the Earth so nothing could grow there for a hundred years as proof of the pain.
So, feeling weary, you crawl into your bed. Your eyes find Azriel sleeping beside you, silent as always, and you trace the delicate features of his face in the dark. Even in his sleep, his shadows, lazy and slow, greet you as a slumber begins to wash over you. The lull of dreams comes quick.
As does morning. But come morning, Azriel isn't there.
Not the most unexpected thing; there were early morning trainings frequently enough. However, Azriel loathed each time you were sent to monitor over those war-camps. He bristled silently each time you left and rejoiced in that quiet, tender way he did best when you came back home to him. A mission in Illyria usually guaranteed a morning in bed with your lover.
Today, the sheets are cold.
You frown as you push yourself up, the sheets pooling at your waist. Faintly, at the back of your neck, you feel it once again. The tickle. Frown deepening, you reached your hand up to scratch at the back of your neck absentmindedly. Your eyes fall on the door.
Like a mystical tug, you feel compelled to search for the Shadowsinger — slipping out of bed silently, the tiled floor is warm from the morning sun beneath your feet. You pull the door open an inch, wondering just where your mate has ambled off to this morning.
As you step through the door, drawn by your mysterious compulsion, you don't turn back to check behind you.
And even if you had, your eyes would glaze over the large Illyrian, still bundled up in your sheets, turning over in his sleep.
You find Azriel out on the balcony, not in training as you had suspected.
He's facing out towards the city, his hands braced on the marble, his strong wings held proudly behind him. Interestingly, his shadows have forgone him this morning. Not one of them is in sight. You sidle up to him, feeling more yourself already just seeing him.
"Abandoning me in bed this morning?" You begin, playfully. You reach out to loop a hand through his arm. "I thought you had promised me—"
Your words come to an abrupt halt as Azriel shifts before you can touch him, his arm pulled out of reach.
In fact, as he notices your presence and turns to you, he takes an entire step backward. His handsome face screws up, a frown set on his brow.
"Don't." He says severely.
Your chest pangs with hurt. Your eyebrows crowd together in your confusion, concern beginning to melt into your blood.
"Az?" You say tentatively. You want to step closer to him, to cradle his face in your hands like you do whenever he has that crushed expression on — but a greater part of you fears he may retreat from you again.
"Don't call me that." He say, voice lower. His head dips, turned away from you to hide his face. Your concern swells, a thousand alarms ringing inside your mind. The back of your neck tickles again.
"Azriel," You try again desperately, fighting to keep your voice even. "What happened? What's going on?"
Confusion paints every thought in your mind as it whirls and searches, hunting desperately for the cause of your mate's sudden iciness. Was it something you had done? Was it taking another mission to a place you knew he so despised you going to?
The Fae before you doesn't say a word.
"Azriel," His name comes out a plea, unable to help yourself. It only scratches deeper into your soul when he maneuvers again, quicker than you, purposefully evading your touch.
"Stop." He instructs, the word nearly a growl. His voice is alike to the bark he uses for talking down to unruly war-camp Lords. It's nothing like the soft, sweet tone you're so accustomed to. It makes his words sting even more. "Your touch disgusts me."
You reel back at his words, a sharp inhale shooting to your lungs. What? You could feel your mouth opening and closing, no words coming to fruition. Behind your eyes, you can feel the itch beginning. You will your tears away, confusion still the dominant emotion swirling inside.
"I—" You stammer. "I don't understand."
Azriel snorts, unamused. He crosses his arms across his broad chest, looking more intimidating than usual as he draws to his full height. He keeps his eyes on the ground but the expression on his face looks... bored.
"I've had a revelation."
Another ache resounds through your chest. Why is he being so cryptic? Since when... had disgust been something Azriel had ever associated with you? You shiver at the prickle that rolls down your neck. It's as though you had gone to bed and your mate had been switched in the night.
"Az, you're scaring—"
"Stop calling me that." He snarls, interrupting you. You jolt in surprise, your feet taking a step back. With the way he's leering over you, a hint of anger —anger you've never seen directed at you before— creeping into his face, something akin to fear grows within you.
Azriel is stronger than you and far more deadly. A fact that usually provides comfort, for the first time, only grows your unease.
"Don't you want to hear my revelation?" He asks, his growl barely reined in. He smiles down at you but it's not soft in the way you know. It's cruel.
You take a step back. Something is wrong— terribly, entirely and utterly wrong with the love of your life. Panic begins to bubble up, like waters rising in a sinking ship.
You need to find someone else. You need Cassian, need Rhys, need anyone else here to help because you are the worst person to help. Every word he says cuts deep to bone. You can feel your heart bleeding within your chest.
It has to be a trick.
That was all you could think. Your mind was stumbling over the sentence over and over, almost delirious in how it clung to the thought tightly. It must, it must —you hoped it was. Begged it to be.
You take another step back, ready to dash through the house and call for help — but Azriel takes another step toward you. Your fear spikes, looking up his snarled face, the power within him radiating off in waves.
"I came to realise that I don't—"
"—y/n?"
A voice cuts in. There's someone else on the balcony with you. Thank the Mother, you think to yourself, whipping around to find Cassian in the doorway. He's got a furrow in his brown, concern written all over his expression.
"Cassian," You breath his name in a sigh of relief. You step back again, hyper aware of how Azriel seems to take the exact same amount of steps as you, following you to the door. Your panic flares away, your breaths coming fast and short.
"Cassian, thank gods—" You begin.
"What's happening?" He interrupts urgently. His eyes are on you alone, never flickering across to Azriel out on the balcony. "Why are you— did you have another nightmare?"
"Nightmare?" You repeat, eyes wide as you stare at him in concerned bewilderment.
You're about to point out the very large intimidating Male staring you both down when Azriel speaks again.
"I said," He drawls out the word and your head snaps back to look at him. You fail to notice that Cassian doesn't even turn at all.
"I've had a revelation, my dear."
It all sounds so terribly sarcastic, such a far cry from your stoic, sincere mate. You cringe, already feeling how his next words will be made cut you down.
"I don't want you anymore."
"—what can you see?—" Cassian's voice speaks from beside you, fuzzy and out of focus. You stare at Azriel, your heart beginning to hum and fizzle, a thousand fissures breaking upon the surface.
An anguish so deep in your bones rattles through your body — and across the House of Wind, your real mate wakes up with a gasp at the feel of it.
"What?" You croak, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel.
You can feel Cassian's hands on your shoulder, shaking you, but you can't— you won't look away. Something deep within you compels you to watch him break your heart and shred your soul. The back of your neck singes with heat.
"—What is it you're seeing?!—" Cassian's voice dips in and out. His hand sweeps your hair back, looking for any ailments causing this. He finds it in an instant. "Holy Cauldron, your neck. Oh, that's so not good. Rhys!"
He bellows for the Highlord right as Azriel, the real Azriel, bursts in through the door — following the taut agonizing pain in his chest, that connects you two together. His eyes snag on you and Cassian, out on the balcony, and his brother turns to him but you do not.
"Azriel," Cassian warns. "It's a Vesania Sigil."
Azriel pays him no heed, even as the words echo through him with a darkened dread. His stomach turns, bile threatening.
A Vesania Sigil— his knees nearly threaten to buckle beneath him.
A Vesania Sigil is a sinister curse, placed on people to drive them to the brink of insanity, minds scrambled to exhaustion.
In all the times Azriel has seen them in his long lifetime... they have all been on dead Fae, driven to the point of taking their own life. His shadows burst into a frenzied storm.
Your eyes are fixed somewhere out of the balcony, a glaze to them that tells Azriel you're seeing something different than he can. Softly, as gently as he can, he strides out and Cassian steps back to let him. Azriel steps down onto the balcony beside you, slowly, delicately reaching out to touch you.
You startle, head snapping around to see who's touched you. Except when you drag your gaze up and meet his face, you flinch hard. Azriel feels misery twist deep into his heart, some buried fear within him coming true before his eyes.
You take a step back, stumbling as you do. Then your head turns back out to the balcony—then back to him, back and forth.
"W—What?" You stammer out.
It takes Azriel only one second to realise why, and to feel the agony as he does; you're seeing double.
When you had said he's everything to you, you had truly meant it. He is both your greatest love and... your greatest fear.
Azriel can feel Rhys' arrival somewhere behind him, can even hear Cassian's concerned voice filling him in but his entire focus is locked onto you. You've stumbled back again, falling painfully on your backside, barely catching yourself on your hands but something— someone on the balcony keeps frightening you.
Something in Azriel screams; how can he fight an enemy he cannot see or touch?
He's on his knees before you in an instant. You're beginning to tremble, silent tears on your cheeks and Azriel's heart wails as you look upon him with a face for a fear. He can't tell what you're seeing but he just needs you to see him.
"My love," He says, voice quiet as to not spook you. You whimper at his words and something shrivels up inside Azriel's chest. He continues, noting how your eyes flick rapidly between his face and something over his shoulder. You shuffle back, too hesitant to trust him.
"My love, my moon," He murmurs, gently reaching out for you. His shadows zip forward, soothing along your skin. You flinch back again but Azriel holds strong, nudging forward until he's touching your skin.
You wince and screw your eyes closed and Azriel can feel the fear, the tormented pain that pours down the bond. He can see it now, this close, the seal that's burning against the skin of your neck. A fiercely protectiveness anger burns in his gut and he vows to tear apart whoever did this to you, limb by limb.
"I don't know what you can see," He say, soft as he can. He lifts his other hand and cradles the other side of your face. Your eyes peek open. "But it's not true. None of it."
Your lips are quivering, lashes sparkling with how they catch your tears. Azriel feels sick to his stomach again; he could do a thousand battles with countless weapons but this is something he's entirely powerless against.
"Azriel," Rhys speaks up from behind, voice cautious. Azriel ignores him, his thumbs stroking softly over your face.
"It's not real." He says with more urgency. Your eyes dart over his shoulder again and a whimper slips out your throat, your body tensing. Real, raw pain scratches it's way down the bond.
"Azriel, I can get it off her." Rhys voice again. "You just need to keep her still."
Azriel nods, but doesn't turn, doesn't take his eyes off you for a single moment. His heart squeezes and cracks, a thousand shards littered through his ribcage when you finally speak. Your glassy eyes have lost a little of their glaze, fixed on your mate in front of you with a desperate plea.
"He—" You begin, sucking in a harsh breath. Your breathing is too fast, your heartbeat too. "It- it fucking—it looks just like you."
"It's not." Azriel assures in an instant. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours, trying to be the picture of calm for you even as his heart warbles in agony at your pain. "It's not me."
Your eyes shift over his shoulder again and Azriel moves this time, blocking your view. "Don't. Keep your eyes on me. Look at me."
Silently, Rhys kneels at your side, his violet eyes blazing where they’re fixed on your neck. Undoubtedly, this was not such a personal attack but something to harm the inner circle. As darkness begins to swirl from Rhys' fingers, orbiting the sigil, you begin crying again, fresh tears spilling down your chests as little gasps wrack your frame.
"It—" You gasp, suddenly focusing desperately on Azriel now that you know who's who. "It— gods, it sounds so much like you."
"It might, but it isn't me." Azriel promises. He aches when your hands suddenly shoot up, eyes screwed shut as you clamp your hands down over your ears — like whatever you could hear was causing you physical pain. Rhys mutters something under his breath, his hands still working.
"Eyes on me.��� Azriel urges, knowing you can hear him. You whimper and pitch forward, forehead bowing to your knees. His hands fall away as your head begins to give tiny shakes, side to side. His shadows swarm your shoulders, unsure how to help.
“Don’t—“ For the first time, Azriel’s voice falters with a wobble. He tries not to think of the countless warriors who have fallen beneath a sigil this strong and mentally roars at Rhys to move faster. “Listen to me, my love. Listen, listen to my voice, please.”
Your breathes are ragged, staggering inhales as you press your head between your knees. You entire body shakes and Azriel dares to steal a glimpse at the back of your neck — the intricate rune imprinted on your skin shimmering black as it slowly seals.
"Keep," Rhys grits out, his concentration still focused on his power. "her still."
Azriel's hands dart out, already apologising at how he has to force your head out of hiding. You gasp and sob, pulling back to resist but Azriel holds tight, his hands holding your face as tenderly as he can.
He pushes forward, crowding in, until his forehead rests against yours. He summons everything he can within himself, every ounce of devotion he holds for you and send its down the thread in his chest til everything burns white hot.
"Look at me, my love. Show me your eyes. Listen to my voice." Once the silent stoic type, Azriel lets everything that comes to mind fall out his mouth.
Your eyes crease open, flush with tears, and you shudder against him but Azriel feels it. The push back. The press of your skin against his, trying to get closer, trying to get to safety. Rhys curses for a moment, his dark magic still swirling and Azriel resists every urge to howl at him to hurry.
"Tellmetellmetellmetellme," You chant in a whisper, half delirious. You're flicking between his hazel eyes, your hands still half over your ears, body still wracked with quivers.
Tell me. Azriel's soul feels marred at the reveal of what is taunting you and he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks, drawing your attention to him.
"I love you," He says, voice sounding close to wrecked. "I love you and you're mine. I'm yours and you're mine."
You shudder violently, eyes crushing closed, right as Rhys pulls away with an exhausted sigh. It's gone. Azriel hears Rhys' voice in his mind but it's not even needed — not with the way you suddenly slump forward into him, like a puppet with its strings cut.
"It's okay, it's gone," Azriel murmurs lowly, gathering you up in his arms as much as he can. He can feel your body shaking against him, sobs still forcing their way up your throat. His wings wrap around you, an inky cocoon of safety, sealing you off from the world.
"It's gone," He repeats, his arms circling around you. He can feel the pitter-patter of your rabbiting heart, feel the remains of fear that hang around your system. Every cell in his body yearns at this injustice, the fabric of the mating bond sending his protectiveness into overdrive. But more than the urge to hunt and maim whoever harmed you is the overwhelming need to make sure you're safe.
"You're safe now, I swear. It wasn't real." His assurances continue softly, his body instinctively beginning a slow rock to soothe you. You sobs slow to cries, your hands twisted tightly into his sleep-shirt. "I love you. I love you."
By the time your breathing evens out and your hiccuping cries slow, it's some time later. Your face has been buried in Azriel's chest and when you finally dig it out, Azriel's heart disintegrates once more at your blotty skin, your tired eyes.
You don't even have to ask.
"Vesania Sigil." He says quietly, hazel eyes burning into your face.
You can feel his writhing worry through the bond, like a caged tiger, fiery hot and licking at your heels. You give a little sniffle. Open your mouth to speak and find not one word in your throat.
Azriel's moving deftly before you can think, his strong arm looping beneath your knees to scoop up you against his chest. You let yourself be coddled, thankful to the way he curls himself around you entirely, wings hiding your view — only a flash on the ceiling to be seen. You're not sure you can face the others just yet.
The door your bedroom opens as he nears and Azriel kneels on the edge of the bed, his strong thighs maneuvering you both up til he's rested up against the headboard. Pure exhaustion like nothing you've felt before creeps up from within you.
Yet even so, you feel your heart twinge. It's been chafed raw today. Your hands slither and squirm, til they're wrapped tight around Azriel's middle and he hums protectively, his wing draping over you like a blanket.
For a moment, there is only weary, tired silence.
"Tell me?" You ask in a whisper, your voice so, so small. Azriel aches at the pain in your voice, sending every assurance down the golden thread between you.
"You're mine," He says, voice hushed and yet doused in his love.
"I'm yours." You echo, voice a little stronger than before. He can feel the way you tug on the bond, as if checking its still secure— still unbreakable. "And you're mine?"
Azriel folds himself even closer and tugs back on the bond strongly. His scarred hand glides up to bury itself in your hair, massaging slow and sweet. His nose nuzzles in against your hairline, his lips pressing a kiss wherever they find skin.
"And I'm yours." He agrees.
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lady-ashfade · 10 months
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Bound By Birth
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The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.
Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.
Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!
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Aemond Targaryen
As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.
From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.
We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.
Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.
Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.
But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.
No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.
Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.
He swears one day he would protect you.
Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.
When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.
But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.
Female twin:
Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.
Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.
He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.
After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.
Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.
Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.
Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.
Male twin
Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.
When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.
When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.
Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.
He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.
You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.
He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.
Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.
You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.
Lucerys Velaryon
As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.
Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.
I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.
Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.
He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.
When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.
Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.
He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.
Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone. 
He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.
He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.
He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.
Male twin:
He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.
He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.
You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.
You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.
Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.
Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.
But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.
Female reader.
Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.
Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.
Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.
Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.
Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.
Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”
Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.
You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.
Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.
Jacaerys Velaryon
He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.
Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.
He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.
Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.
Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.
He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.
Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.
“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”
Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.
Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.
Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.
Older him is just as bad if not more.
Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.
Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.
Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.
He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.
But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.
Male twin
You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.
From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.
Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.
Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.
After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.
Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.
You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like
“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”
Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.
Matching outfits with you.
Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.
Female twin
Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.
Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.
Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.
Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.
Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.
Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.
While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.
He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.
Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.
He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.
Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.
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sp0o0kylights · 4 months
Text
Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.
Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.
Giving up your time for the greater good.
‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.
Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.
Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?
That was how evolution worked.
The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.
She didn’t regret leaving.
Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.
Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.
He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.
No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.
And absolutely, 100%, no magic.
(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.
Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)
See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.
Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.
Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods. 
One absolutely covered in snow.
Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.
These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.
The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.
Happy.
Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.
That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.
He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.
A baby reindeer distracted him.
It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.
Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.
He was right.
A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.
Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.
Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.
He dreamed of the snow.
The gentle way the woods felt.
It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.
Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.
So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.
That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.
Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.
What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.
The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.
Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.
It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.
Not until he heard the crying.
“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.
The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.
(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)
“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”
Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.
He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.
“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”
“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”
His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.
“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”
It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.
“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.
Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met. 
Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too. 
"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?" 
Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.
(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.) 
“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”
“You’re not bad.” Steve told him. 
He got a glare for it.
“How would you know?”
“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”
Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.
That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.
(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)
“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”
It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.
“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”
He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.
“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles. 
“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.
“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”
“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious. 
Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad. 
“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”
That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.
Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.
Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”
He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”
“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”
“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.
In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.
Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter. 
In retrospect, this was his downfall.
Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.
Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.
Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.
Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.
Remember Eddie.
Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.
The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.
He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.
Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.
“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.
Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.
It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.
Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.
“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.
Like Steve didn't know. 
“I just wanted to see the lights.”
“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”
Steve shook his head.
“No but I could feel them.”
Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.
“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”
This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.
Something his Uncle seemed to sense.
“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind.  Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”
Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.
“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back. 
Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.
(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.) 
“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.
“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.
“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.
He did though.
He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.
Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.
Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.
He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.
(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)
Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.
They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.
His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.
Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.
Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.
(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.
Steve never did.)
xXx
The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.
It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.
He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.
Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.
“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.
Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.
Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.
He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted. 
Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.
(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.
It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.
Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.
Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears. 
He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)
xXx
Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.
This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.
Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.
Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.
Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.
Laughed as the other guy sputtered.
“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.
“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.
His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.
Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.
“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.
Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.
Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.
Steve raised an eyebrow.
“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”
He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”
“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”
“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”
Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.
Those people, the people his parents liked?
They loved it.
“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.
Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.
“People do too.”
He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.
Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.
How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.
“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.
"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.
Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.
Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.
Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”
That made Steve pause.
Really look over the guy standing before him.
The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.
He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.
Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.
It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.
Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.
Abandoned.
“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”
At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.
"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”
“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”
He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.
“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.
“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.
Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.
xXx
Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.
Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved. 
She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.
Felt similar.
Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.
It was great.
Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.
Then Barb went missing.
Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.
Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.
(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.
How it made you act after.)
There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.
And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.
This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.
Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.
It was kind of a lot, really.
Particularly because his parents weren’t home.
(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.
The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.
Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)
Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.
Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.
Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.
(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.
God that asshole hit like a train.)
Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again. 
Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.
It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.
Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.
Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home. 
He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird. 
Steve ignored it.
He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.
(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.
Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.
How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.
It was probably just the head injury.)
Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.
It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.
Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--
Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.
“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.
“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”
“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.
Man, this snow was nice.
Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.
There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.
“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”
“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.
“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”
He gestured to his own ear again.
(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)
The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”
The North Pole.
The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.
“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.
“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.
“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.
He didn’t get an answer.
Which was okay, he thought.
He didn’t really need one.
He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…
“Steve!”
He blinked, and found he must have passed out.
“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.
The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.
Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.
“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.
“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”
He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.
Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.
“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”
“What?”
It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.
“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”
The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.
Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever. 
“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.
It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.
“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.
“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.
It felt nice.
“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.
Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.
“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”
He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.
“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”
Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.
“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”
That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.
“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."
“Yeah?”
“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”
Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.
That felt nice too.
“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”
“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.
(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?
Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.
Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)
Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.
“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.
“I can’t keep him awake!”
That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”
“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”
Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.
He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.
One last thing he needed to say.
“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”
The magic took him away.
xXx
It smelled like cinnamon.
Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.
Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.
It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.
His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.
The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.
It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.
Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.
As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.
“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”
Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.
“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.
“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”
So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.
“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing." 
Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.
Even if it hurt.
Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.
Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.
Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.
(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)
Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.
It was cute.
It made him look cute.
“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.
Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.
Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.
Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.
“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”
“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”
Which sounded about right, considering.
“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”
Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.
“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.
It made him grin. 
“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.
He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)
Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.
“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?
“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!
“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”
Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.
(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.
Steve figured he’d ask later.
After he had finished groveling.)
“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”
It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.
Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.
He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.
Hell he called Steve sweetheart.
And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.
You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.
Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”
Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”
“I'd like to still be friends.”
“Even if I'm gay?”
Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.
“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is." 
He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.
(Regretted that a little bit.) 
He got a mighty frown in response.
“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”
“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”
Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”
Pretended that he was normal.
Just like his parents wanted.
Then he’d met Nancy.
Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.
Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.
Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.
“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”
He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?
Might as well reveal his whole hand.
“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.
Continue.
“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”
Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.
“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”
It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.
Instead he felt lighter than air.
Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.
For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.
He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind. 
If anything, it just solidified it.
Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.
Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.
“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”
Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back. 
xXx
Bonus
“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.
“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”
“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”
“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.
That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.
‘Dustin is gonna freak.’
“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”
“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”
“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”
“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.
“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”
Steve gaped at her.
“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.
“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.
Because Robin was right.
The hole was gone--and his magic was back.
How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?
“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”
He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.
“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.
Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.
(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”
“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”
“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”
“Ew, ew, ew-!” )
This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!
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punkitt-is-here · 3 months
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I feel like the most damning thing to me about Bethesda’s fallout, something that no fun quests or companions could ever fix, is it takes a game series about abiding by your own moral compass and influencing the world around you and instead locks you between the two choices “hey do you want to uphold American status quo (good) or do you want to nuke everything (bad)” it’s like if the NCR and Caesar’s Legion were the only choices and you had zero self determination to forge a different path for yourself.
I think the coolest thing about NV that made me respect it the most is the addition of two alternate routes on top of the main conflicting factions. There are two flavors of independent, and one of them involves giving a libertarian VTuber ultimate power and the other involves you getting dirty and sweaty trying to rid the entire greater Mojave of the influence of the other 3. The fact that they didn't have just two picks and that all four of those routes have pretty good reasoning behind all of them (with the exception of Caesar's Legion, but it offers compelling reasons if you're a villain) already puts it leagues ahead of other games in it's genre
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hacash · 1 year
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‘Nate hasn’t earned a redemption arc yet!’ my dude no-one on Ted Lasso ‘earned’ a redemption arc, that’s the whole damn point
‘redeem’ literally means to compensate for. to give something good in repayment for something bad, to ‘buy back’ the shit you’ve done. And Ted Lasso has never tried to do this. Rebecca didn’t ‘earn’ a redemption arc: she couldn’t unsay all the cruelties she’d said to Higgins, couldn’t bring Jamie back from Man City, couldn’t undo the damage that let to Richmond being regulated. Jamie couldn’t unsay his ageism to Roy or his snottiness to Ted. he couldn’t buy his way out of the bullying he’d imposed on the team – he tried, don’t get me wrong, and then Ted put the breaks on buying the team’s love because he knows how poorly that’s going to go down. earning redemption is an exhausting arc, and Ted Lasso’s been very clever in never really doing it.
what these characters did, however, is resolve to change.
Ted Lasso has never been about redemption: it’s been about reformation. reforming your life, and giving other people the space to acknowledge that and appreciate that. former ‘villains’ in Ted Lasso don’t abase themselves or spend episodes earning back people’s good opinion or their trust: they acknowledge that they’ve done something wrong, and they resolve to turn themselves around. and vitally, they can’t do that until they’ve escaped from the shit place they are in their lives, from their own personal dark forest. Rebecca can’t reform until she’s removed herself from the mental state of obsession with Rupert and instead finds herself in a place of community. Jamie can’t reform until he extracts himself from Man City and his desire to get his father’s approval. mentally, they have to be in a better place themselves before they can start being better for other people.
And then, crucially, I think the crux of a Ted Lasso reformation is a demonstration that you are now a safe space for others when before you weren’t, even if it means putting yourself in a position of vulnerability. for me Rebecca did this not just when she apologised to Ted, but when she offered him an out to share her whole story with the press – risking the press intrusion she so hates. Jamie did this when he joined a potentially risky protest against a prominent sponsor, risking further potential reputational damage (at a time when Jamie’s brand has never needed more of a boost) if it means being part of a team.
and because of that, I think it’s impossible to argue that Nate isn’t in the middle of his reform. He’s already extracted himself from his dark forest: he’s put Rupert behind him, he’s sorting his father issues, he’s proven himself to be less dependent on external validation while having greater confidence in himself. and he’s also starting to show that he’s a safe person to be around, even at the risk of vulnerability. he owns a humiliating nickname that we know carries a lot of painful baggage for him for the sake of conveying to Will that he was wrong, and I think for someone who’s had so many self-esteem issues as Nate, owning a name which he saw as minimising and infantilising and humiliating was a big gesture.
I don’t think that Nate’s arc is finished yet. but I think it’s impossible to claim that he isn’t ‘mid-turn’. and no, he hasn’t ‘earned’ redemption, but ma’am, this isn’t the earn your redemption on your hands and knees show, this is the make the changes to your life that are needed and accept other peoples’ grace if it comes to you show. And there’s a big difference between the two.
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gay-dorito-dust · 17 days
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can i request hcs of gallagher, jing yuan and sunday falling for a criminal? would they try to bring them to the “good” side?
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Sunday: I’m kinda 50/50 on Sunday tbh…
He could persuade/ manipulate you into abandoning your old ways into being with him with promises that he could provide the materials you want/need tenfold.
You had been causing issues for him and the family so why not have you under his roof as his partner? It gets the family off of his back and he gets what he wants.
It was a win-win situation.
You don’t get much of a choice in this situation as Sunday had already put everything in motion long before your fated meeting.
Sunday had kept an eye on you from the moment you started causing problems and ever since then had become a thorn in the family’s side and had grown somewhat of an obsession.
Was it healthy? No but anything Sunday did to earn your eyes on him wasn’t ever healthy, but he likes to believe it was.
While you did get out of a life of crime, was it really better when your new life was spent under constant surveillance from your loving partner and were often refused leave from the house in fear that you were still wanted by the family?
Sunday does love you but it wasn’t a healthy type of love people were tricked into believing…
Gallagher: would have a bit a fun with your little car and mouse game at first.
You being the criminal and him being the one entrusted to put a stop to you schemes.
As long as you weren’t making him work hard nor hurting/killing people and causing mass hysteria then Gallagher was more then willing to let you get away a few times cuz that’s his job
He’d even suggest that you should come to the bar he works on the side in his spare time for a drink and a chat.
You naturally thought this was a rouse and didn’t go but Gallagher was able to persuade you into coming by saying that Gallagher the bloodhound and Gallagher the mixologist were two separate people who ran on two different times.
Needless to say that you began to frequent the bar more often after that and even got to open up to Gallagher about the reasons why you’ve became a criminal.
Gallagher would then help you in getting on the right path by having you bartend with himself and or Siobhan -someone who quickly became one of your closest friends- who knew about Gallagher’s feelings towards you and will occasionally act as his wingman.
After awhile you’ve left the life of crime behind you and become a bartender for the DreamJolt Hostelry in the Reverie.
It wasn’t long before Gallagher asked you out on a date and then later be in a beautiful relationship with you much to everyone in the DreamJolt Hostelry’s relief. They’ve spent long enough not trying to comment on the evident tension between the two of you.
Jing yuan:
He would try to bring you to the good side but not just because he was a crush on you, but more so the fact that you were wasting your time and effort on something that he though was beneath someone of your calibre.
He sees your potential and is impressed but was saddened that your potential was dwindled by the fact that you had resorted to a life of crime.
I mean you must be something if you’ve caught the Generals attention for him to put so much investment in you.
So he would always seemingly be where you are and talks some wisdom into you about how you shouldn’t settle for less just because you thought that was all that your worth. When in actuality you were only relaying on the words other people have used to describe you, rather then let yourself determine your actual worth, which was far greater then the one you’ve given yourself to settle with.
Jing yuan will try to sway you into making the right decision. He firmly believes that you were the only one who should willing make the choice to actively make change to your lifestyle, no one else should have any say in what you do with your life but you.
Whether it’d be good or bad. Life was a lesson that we’re all constantly learning from on a daily basis. We’re not the same person as we were yesterday or the day before and Jing Yuan firmly believed this and was willing to wait as long as it took for you to make the right decision for yourself.
Which you do and from then does Jing Yuan focused on building your relationship in hopes of a potential chance of it becoming romantic.
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octuscle · 2 months
Note
Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!
Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.
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You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!
Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.
You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.
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Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.
But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.
The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.
The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.
You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…
The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.
You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!
You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…
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By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…
The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.
A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.
You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!
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You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.
First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!
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You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.
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angiesmagicspace · 2 months
Text
Reversed roles
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“Ooh, tell me why, tell me why do I feel so free when I'm dead?
Oh, when I'm tied on to your short leash”
Pairing: husband Seungcheol x wife reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: slight BDSM themes, DOM Cheol, sub-femme reader, tying up, edging, teasing, overstimulation, etc.
Summary: Her job requires her to take on the leading role, but the roles become very different when she enters her home.
A/N: Back from the dead, uni is really kicking my ass. But I hope you like this. Tell me your thoughts
Masterlist
Asks are open
Being in charge was a part of your personality. Everything from your personal life to your work life needed to be perfect. Ever since you were promised a leading position in your dad's company, you aimed to be the best in everything you did. The control you had was fueling you to achieve greater things in life. Sometimes people would try to be snarky and comment how you must drive your partners crazy with the amount of control. But they didn't know that they were far away from the truth.
Your husband Seungcheol is your favorite person in the entire world. Ever since you met him during one of many company dinners, you were so in love. He truly was the best thing to happen to you. He is truly the cherry on top for you. People would often comment how you two compliment each other so well, and you couldn't agree more. What they didn't know was that you two compliment each other on so many levels that it's almost embarrassing to admit. He is the ying to your yang, the moon to your sun, the missing piece of your puzzle. Every time you hug him, you feel like you successfully found your other half. 
He is the one who helps you switch from your role of the leader to the role you enjoy a little more. Being his submissive was your favorite thing of every day. This dynamic between you two felt so natural. From the very first time you were intimate, the roles were just implemented like they were agreed before. He held the reins in his hand, and you were just there to take everything he gave you. Even when you were restrained, it felt free to have him make all the decisions and control your pain and your pleasure.
Once again, you are on your way home from a very tiring and stressful day at the company. But just the thought of coming back home to your husband was exciting you to no end. All that stress will be forgotten the moment you kneel in front of him, and he puts your collar on you.
“I'm home,” you yell while closing the door behind you, already smelling your husband's perfume in the air, making your insides tingle. The moment you spotted him sprawled on the couch, you felt the excitement rush through you. He looked ethereal, so buff yet soft to the touch, he truly looked like a deity sent from the goods to reward you. “Oh, kitten finally. I have been waiting for so long,” he jumped up, spreading his arms so you could just bury your head in his chest. Hugging you tightly, he kissed the top of your head, giving you just the comfort you needed today. “Do you want me to make some dinner or order something?” he asked, still embracing you tightly against his chest. “No, thanks, baby. I already ate something, but there is something I want more.” you pulled away just enough so you could look him in the eyes. He just arched his brow, waiting for you to tell him your wishes. “I want you to take care of me,” the moment those words left your mouth he knew what you required the most.
Without any words, he scooped you up in his arms and walked to your bedroom. He let you down on the bed and went to close the door, while you took off all of your clothes, leaving only your panties and bra. Lowering yourself on the cushion in front of the full-length mirror, you slowly let go of all the stress. What made you relax entirely was the feeling of your collar being put on by your husband. His strong hands felt so gentle while he was putting the pink satin around your neck. From this moment it was only him in your world, nothing else mattered besides his commands and rules.
“Now kitten, you know the rules. What I say goes, you only speak when spoken to, and you aren't allowed to do anything without my approval. Am I clear?” his tone was lower than usual, but that is how he speaks when he is in the role of your dominant. You looked up at him, already in bliss. “Yes, sir” Your words felt so soft to his ears, oh he loves you so much. “Get on the bed, laying on your back. I want to see all of you,” his instructions were always stern, and your body moved on its own there was no reason to rebel against your husband. Sprawled on the bed, you were waiting for his next move. He collected something from your closet and came back. Slowly, he took off your lingerie, which meant that you would soon be tied up. “I am going to tie you up for now, if you behave I might let you touch me.” every step he always explained, his dominance didn't always mean pain, most of the time it meant caring for you in a way no one couldn't. Silk ropes wrapped around your ankles and hands, restraining you just enough so you won't be able to touch him or move too far.
Firstly, his hands found their way to your chest, massaging your boobs, pulling on your nipples, and stroking them in a circular motion. He set his focus on them, knowing that it will get you going in no time. Your nipples are very sensitive and some days he could make you cum just by sucking on them. Low moans left your mouth while he focused on your neck, giving you small hickeys here and there just to make a small reminder of whom you belong to. Your whimpers became louder by the second, and he knew that if he didn't move his hands now you would be cumming in no time, which wasn't his plan. His hands moved down to your hips, one hand staying there and the other moving further down so he could gently palm your pussy.
His fingers moved softly over your slit, collecting your wetness very audibly. Every stroke of his fingers made you squirm, he was so close to where you needed him, but he didn't do what you needed him to do. Quiet whimpers and pleas left your mouth, but they fell on deaf ears, now wasn't the time for you to choose. “Quiet kitten, you will get what you require when I decide it,” the tips of his fingers found your clit, massaging in a circular motion. Every touch was more intense than the previous. You were so close, already feeling your orgasm nearing, but your hope didn't last very long when you felt Seungcheol remove his hand from your pussy. Making you even more desperate than you were already. He continued doing this for some time, bringing you so close to your release and then removing his fingers immediately.
“Oh, look at you kitten. So desperate that you would cry for an orgasm. I am cruel to you, aren't I?” nodding your head, you felt his dick rubbing against your entrance. By this point, you were crying, whining, begging for any sort of release. It was torture, but you needed more than he could imagine. Carefully, he slipped inside you, stretching your tight walls with his big dick. It felt amazing, the stretch always burned slightly, but you knew that his size was to blame for that. He slowly trusted inside of you, building his pace very carefully so you wouldn't cum just yet. “Is this what you wanted? Sir to take care of you and pleasure this little pussy of yours, hm” his breathing was heavier, he truly loved being inside of you there was no better place for his dick than your pussy. He craved it every day, he worshiped it every time he got down on his knees, it was his favorite meal. 
With every thrust, you were closer to reaching your orgasm, and he knew that. Positioning the tip of his dick right on your g spot, feeling your walls flutter against him. You were ready to cum, and he would make sure that it was the best orgasm ever. Thrusting faster, he felt himself also getting closer, but that wasn't important right now. Just as you were seconds away from cumming, he pulled out. 
You were ready to scream and beg, but that's when you felt his fingers enter your pussy. Moving in and out at brutal speed, hitting your g spot every time. And that's when you felt it, reaching your orgasm felt like heaven. Arching your back, you pushed yourself harder on his fingers, and he gladly let you. Slowly coming down from your high, you looked at Seungcheol, while he admired you. “Kitten, I knew you had it in you, squirting on my hand like this. Almost had me cumming without any stimulation.” he softly spoke, and that's when you realized that the sheets beneath you were soaked.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you for making me feel so good.” whispering, you tried to thank him the best you could. He just hugged you while untying the ropes from your hands. “Thank you, kitten, for trusting me.” lifting yourself, kissing his shoulder as thank you, feeling deeply relieved from everything that happened today.
“Sir, could I do something for you?” even though you felt spent from your orgasm, you still craved the feeling of his fat dick on your tongue. “Only if you want to, kitten. I don't want to pressure you.” you knew that he didn't need you to do it, but it was for your pleasure anyway. You lowered yourself down, licking the tip of his dick. Sucking him, hollowing your cheeks, it almost felt better than cumming yourself. He made himself comfortable against the headboard, admiring you and the stained sheets behind you. You bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. It truly felt amazing to have you like this. Seungcheol couldn't last very long, the whole sight in front of him was too much to handle. Soon you felt his warm seed hit the back of your throat.
He lifted you, embracing you in a hug. You stayed like that for some time before he transferred you to the bathroom to wash you and cuddle you some more.
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genshin-side-piece · 1 month
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I have a yandere Neuvillette concept that has been haunting me, especially in regard to how you write him cause I really loved your series on him :3c
So imagine a Neuvillette after he kidnapped darling. He understands why you're upset, and though he will not let you go he does feel a little guilty about keeping you with him. He justifies it by telling himself (and you) that it is for your own safety and protection.
BUUUUUUT imagine Neuvillette judging a trial where the defendant did the EXACT same thing. They kidnapped someone and help them against their will for several months. The defendant implores to him and the audience that they did it to protect the victim, they did it for love.
I think Neuvillette has overseen many trials where the defendant broke the law but still had a sympathetic reason to do so - like a person who killed in self defense or someone who stole to survive. Unfortunately, I don't think there is any canon material that explores this (as far as I know - hopefully I am wrong), but I think a non-yandere Neuvillette would not let his judgement be completely clouded by the defendant's motives. They still broke the law so off to Meropide they go, but he knows when to be lenient and understanding about it.
Back to yandere Neuvillette, this trial puts him between a rock and a hard place. This defendant did the exact same thing Neuvillette did to you, he understands their motives very well. If this is a post-Archon quest Fontaine then he has complete control over the defendant's fate. Should he judge this defendant fairly, as he had with millions of ever? If he sends the defendant to Meropide, then doesn't this mean Neuvillette is guilty in the eyes of the law as well? Deep down, does he secretly think he is above the law? That his darling's well being is more important than any legislation?
But if he declares the defendant not guilty then what will this mean for the future of Fontaine? Other criminals may see this and realize that doing things for "love" is a morally sound motive to the fair Iudex. Crime, especially kidnapping related ones, might increase! The people would question why the Chief Justice declared someone not guilty when they CLEARLY committed a heinous crime. Victims of similar crimes in Fontaine might not see Neuvillette has a pillar of justice, but of someone who undermines it (a harsh realization that you had to go through when he kidnapped you).
I imagine that whatever Neuvillette's decision is, he's a little shaken up after the trial. He goes home and seeks your (unwilling) comfort, pulling you into his arms for an embrace, even if you protest and try to slip away. He treats you a little differently afterwards; maybe he relaxes on the rules and regulations he enforced on you and gives you a bit more freedom, or maybe he doubles down on his decision to keep you and gets more frustrated when you fight back.
This made me so happy! TY for sending! 😊 I love to talk about this kind of stuff. I wish I got to do it more. I'm placing this under a cut, with warnings just to be safe.
Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI
Neuvillette's grey area. It's my favorite thing about him.
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Here's what makes him fun. He knows how to work the law(s) to his advantage. We see that with the traveler in 4.1. Neuvillette "invents" charges for the traveler to be sent to Meropide. He does so by getting them to commit a petty crime in the form of eating Furina's discarded cake. The traveler is unaware of said crime until they're sent to the actual fortress. Only then do they realize that Neuvillette pulled a harmless fast one on them. Later, we see him do it again when he goes behind Furina's back for the sake of the nation. I'm sure he felt horrible about it and tried to apologize afterwards, but he still went through with it because there was a greater good that needed to be fulfilled.
Same kind of principle applies here. Your safety is everything to him. Up until he finds you, he believes you to be in mortal danger. I imagine the moment of you just walking out all fine was a bit anticlimactic for him, but he would definitely take that over the alternative.
Through the power of his office, Neuvillette tricks the reader into coming with him vs taking them by force. The confinement portion gets a little stickier in terms of the laws. Neuvillette's reasons for taking you are sound. Those same reasons carry through to him keeping you. He was worried. He was concerned. As one of the leaders of Fontaine, he's merely performing his duty in protecting you. He can't guarantee your safety from the perceived threat if you go home. No, it's better if you stay with him until the threat passes, which could be never btw. Just because the serial k*ller has been caught, doesn't mean there aren't others who would seek to do you harm. The mafia/cartels or even the fatui are still lurking. All it would take is one report that lists potential targets with a description that vaguely matches yours and he's set with his excuse.
Just as an aside, in my mind, Neuvillette carries some built in immunity. He has a sterling reputation. It’s not fully mentioned in the story, but even if he were accused of a crime, who would believe that person? He’s the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Someone who is purposefully written above reproach in the eyes of the population. He’s not infallible, but I feel like it would take a ton of convincing for anyone to believe Neuvillette had broken the law. Then there’s the matter of who judges him? Neuvillette is the judge. Who judges the judge in a nation with no archon?
In terms of the poor soul that has found their way before him, Neuvillette would 100% find that individual guilty regardless of his actions. Laws are laws and Neuvillette's main purpose in the story is uphold those laws. Where it gets iffy is how that person is sentenced. What is the appropriate level of justice for the crime? One could argue that the reader has already extracted a specific level of justice from Neuvillette based on how they treat him. How he feels about the trial afterwards is an interesting debate. Where Neuvillette and you start vs where you end in the series are two very different places. Since we’re talking specifically about the post-archon quest relationship between the two, I’m not sure how shaken he would be. The relationship is in a very different place from where the first story picks up. I can see him visiting his past feelings on the subject and briefly questioning specific things, but in the end it doesn’t matter to him based on how the series ends.  
Still, for the purpose of this though, I can see him going home and bringing you close. How willing you want to be is up to you. 😊
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iambilliejeanok · 1 year
Note
can you please write headcanons on how the Akatsuki eat out their fem s/o? Thank you.
Yes I can, you’re welcome🌸
🌸How the Akastuki members eat out fem reader🌸
Feature: Pein||Kakuzu||Hidan||Sasori||Itachi||Kisame
Warnings: 🔞, NSFW, content might be unsuitable for some viewers, contains taboo/explicit scenes that some might find disturbing, darcyphillia, female cunnilingus, UNEDITED, the whole thing is about pussy eating, all consensual scenarios.
No artwork presented here belongs to me
💗Enjoy💗
Pein
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We love Pein we really do, but dear lawd, he knows how to torture you. Pein is such a dirty tease. He’s so bad, you might even end up crying, the remainder of the session.
With his mouth literally watering, this is tough on him too, spit casually sliding off of his tongue and onto your vulva, while he’s softly biting and sucking the skin surrounding your genitalia, leaving small hickies behind and NEVER touching your clit.
If you’re strong willed enough, screaming at him and tugging on his dry orange hair might direct his attention to your suffering, but that also really annoys him, and now a lingering kiss is all he leaves you with, your hips would’ve shot up if he wasn’t holding them down, but your poor clit is way too sensitive that just the contact of his soft lips against your clit nearly took you out.
“Pein! Baby I can’t stand this! Please!!!”, you desperately beg him, unashamedly attempting to shove your clit in his mouth but you can’t even get close, he’s freakishly strong. He’s eyebrows now lower and he’s purely disappointed. “If I give you want you want you’re still going to bother me. Why can’t you give in to me?”, he asks, and lawd knows you couldn’t give a flying fuck right now, he needs to get serious.
But this is his little game, to see how much he can torture you, purple eyes refocusing on your pussy. Here’s a good reason as to why he admires edging you so much, you’re so incredibly wet, and when he separates your folds to get a good look at you, it’s all goey and sticky, and he absentmindedly starts licking a trail up and down every inch of your exposed vulva, every lick setting your entire body ablaze, Pein shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you as he continues licking up, but he stops just below your clit his eyes blissfully shut and his head in another world as he takes his sweet time to taste every inch of you.
There’s no level of horny greater than this for you and Pein is hard enough to break something with his erection. He’s definitely not sorry for putting you through this and for a matter of fact, he had you right where he needs you. He’s managed to reduce you to a desperate mess, your pussy is dripping with your arousal and he’s looking right back at your hole, watching it contract and expand as though it’s begging him too. He knows it’s begging him. Now he can mess with you.
Kakuzu
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First of all, Kakuzu towers over you, his impressive frame and bulky size means he can easily manhandle you regardless of your size, and we know this grumpy piece of sexyness takes advantage of that too.
He’s so serious though, but he loves your personality, whatever it is. He doesn’t typically make any sounds outside of heavy breathing when the two of you have sex, and you’re always the one reaching the high notes.
Kakuzus approach to eating you out is definitely different from Peins, because Kakuzu doesn’t have the time of day to edge you. He’s a dangerous assassin and only enjoys making money the easiest way he knows how, so he always needs to stay alert and be on guard, even in the comfort of your own bedroom while his head is buried between you legs.
He’s very intentional and to the point, he wants you to start crying out his name with ragged screams RIGHT NOW😭This man has no general idea of how to initiate anything sexual so he just scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder wherever you are. He places you down anywhere comfortable enough for you lay down, and he’s immediately pushing your thighs up and spreading your legs. He also ALWAYS just moves your panties to the side because he doesn’t have time to get all romantic with you, but he also really wants to make you feel good🥺 he really tries his best to make you feel good, if only it didn’t have to be so spontaneous and intense all the time
The pad of his thumb is already rubbing your clit in circles. Now you know he’s insanely good at this, so the minute he throws you over his shoulder, your pussy is already growing moist with every passing second. He’s not a fan of dirty talk but sometimes he’ll comment on how you’re already creamed up at this point. If only he understood his own power😭😭
With his focus on your beautiful face, he spits right onto your clit and you can’t help but moan at the sensation of the cold spit landing on clit, but he’s massaging your clit again with his thumb, his free hand working in ripping your top in half so he can free your titties. Kakuzu gets so horny when you let him play with you, because it’s not like he can just do this whenever he wants. Biting your lip to stifle a moan at the contact of his open palm kneading your boob would work if the speed of his thumb in your clit didn’t increase, and you’re moaning loudly now, his focused facial expression relaxing with a smirk pulling at his lips before he buries his head between your thighs, tongue fucking you to an orgasm, and you’re already throwing your head back, overwhelmed with Kazuzu’s intensity and aggressiveness as he licks and sucks on your clit, your screams like a beautiful play that he gets to orchestrate, knowing what to do to get what kind of reaction.
Your orgasm are always so long and intense because he’s constantly stimulating something. If he’s sucking your soul out of your clit he’s also tongue fucking you, his fingers helping out to stimulate your gspot while he’s free hand keeps you spread just enough to lick every inch of you. HE LOVES EATING YOUR WHOLE ASS OUT OKAY. He’s so strong it’s left you with a little bit of an obsession towards his touch. He lifts your ass up easily enough with how he pushes your thighs open and by the time he’s getting around to lapping the crack of your ass and circling your anus you’re a complete mess. You’re squirting, screaming and shaking but it’s barely been three minutes…he has the time to go a little longer. 5 minutes, maybe 6 since he’s feeling extra relaxed at this point.
Sasori
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He’s so sick and evil please😭😭 why does getting your pussy ate out have to be so intense and overwhelming. And you might need to endure a little bit of pain to experience those orgasms that make you feel like you’re turning into another creature. He loves to study you and your body, how certain things will drive you crazy and how other things you can handle better.
Sasori is surprisingly a loyal pleaser, he always strives to send you over the moon and he now understands that the more pleasure you experience the easier it is for you to handle penetration. He loves penetrating you while eating you out, yes with his fingers and they feel so good you can literally envision the way he makes you feel, but he also gets a kick out of seeing the toys he meticulously designed fit inside of you, one inside your anus and one inside your vagina. The one inside your vagina just vibrates, starting from a low buzz and gradually growing more intense, that you’ll eventually have orgasms that could last the whole session, while the you that goes inside your vagina is the one he plays around with, fucking you with it while he devours your clit. Sometimes he will pull the toy inside your vagina out to replace it with his own tongue and slurp up the mess you’re making. 😭🙈
Hidan
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Hidan loves spanking yes, but not he’s not about your ass. When you’re enjoying an intense orgasm, crying, or fussing enough to annoy him, especially while he’s in the zone, spreading your lips apart to directly stimulate your exposed bean, but gentle licks is enough to send you into spasms. When it gets difficult to keep you in one position, he straightens up and smacks your titties, loves to slap both of them, until your promise him you’ll sit still. You know the drill.
But the reality is you’re not going to be able to stay in one position with how he’s not giving your a break, constantly licking your vulva, unintentionally stimulating your g spot every time his tongue slips inside of you, taking his sweet time, his eyes shut to really taste you. So he opens his eyes and frowns, sitting upright to start smacking your breasts again.
He makes you cry when he does this because it’s really not fair, and damn you because your years will tug at his heart enough to convince him you deserve a break. He’s actually kinda sweet though, because when you begin to really cry and beg him to wait, he will find something else to do until you’re ready for round two, massaging your boob in one hand while he’s warm mouth is suckling the other, and your beautiful skin is always covered in dark patches from the millions of of hickies he leaves all over you, especially your chest and neck area when he’s giving you a break.
In between kisses he checks on you. “Hey”, he whispers as to not startle you, your eyes fluttering as they open up to see him. You should answer him when he’s done planting soft kisses against your softer lips. “hey”, you respond in the softest voice, he immediately has the urge to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you tight. “Intense right.. babyy, are you okay?”, he whispers in your ear. “Yes I’m okay, thank you”. “May I continue?”, he asks placing a kiss against your temple, already leaving a trail of kiss as he repositions himself between your legs.
This time around he’s a little meaner, praising you for constantly squirting on him while he’s devouring you, your orgasms so intense it doesn’t take too long for you to start throwing another tantrum. He’s so good at handling you🥺
Itachi
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Itachi🥺 he loves talking to you during foreplay. He’s also constantly flirting with you, that probably explains why you’re always horny. He knows what he’s doing because Itachi LOVES pleasuring you with his mouth. Whether it’s verbally or physically, he never fails to make you feel so so good.
Itachi will eat you until a whiny mess and he talks you through all of it. “Tachi!’ I can’t take it uhhhh!!!!”, you whine, Itachi not stopping the stroke of his tongue against your clit until you have this orgasm. He doesn’t like ruining your orgasms, so he’s rather just make you nut and give you a break after, no matter how intense the orgasm is. You’re going to have it until you calm yourself. “There you go sweet girl”, he pants, mesmerized by the way you’re squirting and the noises you’re making, screaming while he’s literally just watching you cum. “Baby”, he smiles, “I love watching my pretty girl squirt like this. Thank you baby”. “I- o-okay—“, you try and speak but that orgasm was rather overwhelming.
Your inability to get yourself together always amuses him, he loves doing this to you. “My pretty girl”, he says, leaning forward to finally kiss you, his fingers slowly separating your folds, the pad of his middle finger rubbing your clit in left to right strokes, the speed increasing, quickly leaving you unable to kiss him in return. He smiles again, amused. Your clit is so sensitive and you’re so sweet and responsive, the demon inside of him wants to come out and play. Now even though you’re screaming from such simple actions, he still wants to see you have another orgasm, despite the intensity.
But he’s loving and sweet with how he handles the situation you don’t realize he’s the reason why you find yourself able to make it to orgasm number 4 in just one round😫
Kisame
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Like Kakuzu, Kisame is also really tall and bulky, and uses that to his advantage whenever he can, even when he’s trying to pleasure his precious lover😞
He loves him some foreplay and loves using his fingers before he finishes you off with his mouth. He loves you between his thighs with you back resting against his chest, and with his free hand leading your boobs, his other hand is rapidly flicking at your clitoris, bringing you to multiple orgasms while you squirm and convulsive between his legs, yet he easily holds you snug against him. He might even place his own legs over yours and bring you to another orgasm. You’re guaranteed to squirt when he bullies you like this. Sometimes he would make you sit on his dick while he does this to your poor clit, but let’s get into that some other time…
He loves for you to sit on his face, sit on his face and ride him. Don’t stop though because that might aggravate him😭 and slowly make him feel like he has to be a little more aggressive. “Cmon baby, what’s the matter?”, he frowns, smacking your ass hard before sitting you right back on his mouth, the grip of his hands on your hips is so strong you don’t even try and escape, succumbing to your fate of back breaking orgasms. Tomorrow your back will certainly remind you of this moment right here with how often you arch. But you’re grateful for your morning yoga sessions because those help a lot with any body aches you might have, unless Kisame walks in on you in that downward dog position, then he suddenly wants to do some yoga with you. You both know why he’s really here and it’s going to end with his head between your thighs.
But if it’s not for face riding please let him eat you out on all fours. Lawd he’s so aggressive and might make you wanna tap out from the overstimulation. And in this position you’re so exposed, he buries his face nose between your ass cheeks, might enjoy sniffing your anus while he’s devouring you, his tongue lapping at your clit while he shakes his head, making all kinds of grunt and groaning sounds to show you how much he’s enjoying this. And while you’re pushing his head band begging him to stop he makes more sounds while casually smacking your hands out the way.
He can and will tongue fuck you to tears carefully observing your face while he shoves it inside of you with force, making you crumble and cum right then and there.
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bubblergoespop · 3 months
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My Top Gavin Quotes
this man is just pure love given form istg. @xanyiaz as promised, it’s gav’s turn, ta daaa~
“You can. I know you can.”
“What? I took my shirt off that was his tip.”
“Yes, I just sexualized a building.”
“I’d make an incredible Princess Peach. I’m a vision in pink.”
“My love.”
“Tell your guidance counselor that Gavin says hello. And that I hope the stains came out of his shirt.”
“Deviant, hold me back, the joke’s writing itself.”
“I know perfectly well what a miicrowahvé is. I just don’t know how to operate it.”
“I don’t suppose you feel like sharing his address, in case I wanted to help him… ‘move on’ a little more quickly?”
“Like Empathy Daemon Caelum? Talks too fast, little horns, almost too-sweet Caelum?”
“Oh, nothing special, I just want to see if I can send Vega into orbit around his namesake.”
“But you don’t mind sucking hard?”
“I’ve tasted every kind of ecstasy that the people of this world can experience, but yours is the one that sets my heart on fire.”
“I know feelings. Even the ones I haven’t given myself a chance to feel. I love you. I have loved you. Tried to show it in the ways I knew how, even before I could admit the words to myself. I love you.”
“Oh come on, do-able can be a form of praise.”
“Maybe I don’t care who hears. As long as I get to.”
“When I’m with you, I feel like I’m home. More than that actually. Being with you changes what home means.”
“Oh no! Oh I just realized something, Deviant! I’ve never had to whisk a combination of egg yolks, water, oil, and vanilla before! I guess you’ll have to show me how, by coming up behind me, wrapping your arms around mine, and guiding my hands.”
“Well, as of this morning, the human population has decided to reverse their historical position and now defer to my judgment on what time it is. And I say it’s still bedtime.”
“Is this what they mean when they say relationships are about compromise? Pinning your partner in place until they agree, under duress, to carve out a few minutes of sleepy cuddling?”
“What an odd way to refer to Huxley.”
“You make me so very happy, Deviant. In ways I’d never given myself lease to imagine.”
“You are sin given form, aren’t you? Looking up at me like that. Perfection.”
“Nothing will stop me from keeping you safe.”
“You’re my sky, Deviant. The space between my stars. What I feel for you… in a lifetime of sensing the emotions of others, I never imagined I could feel like this. This much. And I am so grateful for it. And for you.”
“Oh 7/11, I owe you so much.”
“I do have a more… chaste idea. I know, the shock may kill you.”
“It’s sweet, Damien. You’re allowed to be sweet.”
“Yes, I am bad. But I’m very good at it. And I’m yours, my love.”
“What? I’m not grinning, I’m not doing anything. I don’t know what you could mean by that Deviant.”
“Yes, it belongs to you, my love. However you want it. However you’d like it.”
“Who says I can’t study laying down with my eyes closed?”
“I’m allowed to whine. It suits me.”
“Put me where you want me.”
“Well I’m the tooth fairy, can’t you tell?”
“Your scent teasing my senses… If that’s weird, then what the hell do you call what we did last night?”
“You burn rapture through my body, until my vision hazes… and haloes and bends. Like liquid.”
“Your touch ignites my stars.”
“I don’t think you feel gross.”
“Not our fault we’re forever surrounded by a bunch of tyrannical Puritans.”
“I don’t know how well I can pass for a ‘bro’, but I’ll bravely soldier on in Huxley’s honor.”
“Yes, baby.”
“You changed my life. You change it every day. You make me better. And I love you more than human words can convey.”
“There’s no such thing as a perfect match, there is no form of a relationship that doesn’t come with disagreement and effort, but the feelings we hold for one another and the work that we put in for one another are enough to weather any storm. And that’s the difference.”
“And what greater crime is there than to disappoint a rat? Maybe Huxley is wearing off on me after all.”
“‘Adult Pink Fruit Monarch’costume, here I come.”
“Yours is a soul that makes the stars shine brighter. And you’re beautiful for it. Always.”
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sepublic · 5 months
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People -and this did include myself at one point- really don't want to engage with the fact that Belos is modeled after white supremacy by trying to bury this under the lens of "Oh he's actually a lonely weirdo like Luz!!!" when Belos' superiority complex is the most important part of him and it's where all analyses inevitably must stem from. I think the problem is that people are too attached to their speculative fanon version of Belos and instead of letting go of that to rebuild their understanding of him from the ground up (since he's a mysterious character who is only gradually revealed bit by bit), they keep clinging to this sympathetic tragic villain as the core behind their interpretation of him. 
Everything about Belos makes so much more sense when you explore him as someone akin to a lot of right-wing 4channers; A lonely young boy who was radicalized because white supremacy promised to rescue him from his isolation, and after buying into it wholesale, he very much chose to cling onto the need to be superior to the "NPCs" even when someone close to him actually unlearns and deconstructs for him why this is harmful. He sees firsthand how someone just like him is happier for leaving this mindset, and then kills them to eliminate that contradiction threatening his world belief; At which point it’s inaccurate to infantilize him as just a lonely and misguided kid, because he’s no longer a kid and he made a very cognizant and informed choice to double down and commit actual violence.
And everyone knows that by this point, such people are not actually being sincere; They’re not secretly misguided, you can’t simply attribute their harm to not knowing better because this is what their religion says or whatever. These people know they’re committing harm, but rather than help on “lesser” people’s terms, they ‘help’ the way THEY see fit, in the way that strokes their ego. That’s what separates Philip from someone like Gwen, who humbled herself to focus on what Eda was saying she really needed. So the Titan’s summarization of Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion, and fears what he can’t control is… hardly an oversimplification, it really gets to the core of Belos as a character, and the narrative he embodies. It captures the difference between wanting to help and having a savior complex, and is what ends up delineating the two at the crucial crossroads. 
And I find it a little concerning to joke about how this type of character is “just a silly guy” when people exactly like him are on the rise and committing very real violence right now. It’s also why I don’t buy the justification behind a lot of salt about how villains need to be humanized in order to show kids how THEY can become villains, because the show is fairly outright about how Belos rationalizes atrocities under the guise of the ‘greater good’ and refuses to self-reflect, and it’s not as if we don’t have Luz learning to understand characters like Amity or Lilith, the Collector and even Kikimora (whom she DID relate to personally, yet Kiki still doubled down with or without Belos), while still having the show emphasize that they need to get their act together and can’t just depend on people to save them. 
There’s also the very obvious theme of Luz realizing she doesn’t owe her oppressor anything, especially not when he won’t ever meet her or anyone else on their terms, but idk some people just seem to hate Luz for having boundaries I guess, even though she already put in the effort to be kind and understanding to Belos and she got hurt for it. Hell the Collector made that effort after being inspired by Luz, and Luz was murdered protecting them from that mistake!!! There are some very obvious stories and lessons being told here with the actual protagonists being the heart of those narratives, but the problem I’ve noticed is that a lot of the people complaining on Belos’ behalf are those who hyperfixated almost exclusively on the Wittebane aspect of the lore, going over it with a fine tooth comb and microscope to extrapolate an entire fanon from the littlest of details… only to just ignore the actual show and narrative and themes happening on-screen. 
And that leads to many not understanding various narrative decisions because they weren’t really paying attention to the actual point they’re in service to, and then they blame the writers for their own chosen ignorance, and how the story wasn’t about their part specifically so everything else doesn’t count and the whole show is wasted potential, really. The way so many of said fans immediately turned on Luz after the finale and tried to drag her down to Belos’ level by acting like she wasn’t any better for also wanting things and 'demonizing enemies', claiming Luz had unaddressed ‘flaws’ while Belos deserved more sympathy, and framing Belos as a ‘better’ character who ‘worked harder’ while claiming Luz was retconned into an arrogant chosen one who never grew, is actually baffling.
A lot of them are just upset that Belos didn’t play the role in Luz’s arc that they wanted him to play, so they’ve opted to dismiss Luz’s overall storyline as badly written and even a reflection of Dana's 'Catholic complex' (which is a tasteless jab to make) because they neglected the nuance behind every other aspect of Luz that wasn’t directly tied to Belos, that didn’t set her up as the one person who understands him or whatever because that’s more important to them than addressing the sheer trauma and pain that Belos willingly inflicted upon Luz. Because god forbid this brown girl be angry against her white abuser, huh? God forbid the white guy be used to set up the brown main character, rather than the other way around right????? It’s really just a jealous complaint about the show’s choice of priorities and celebration, hidden under the false guise of ever caring about Luz’s arc for Luz’s sake.
And that’s how you get insincere arguments about how Belos should’ve been able to survive, that’s how you get AUs that undermine the lessons of canon to egregiously relegate Luz to being Belos’ sidekick, or even present her as an obstacle to him getting his much-needed redemption, as if that last part hinges on all of Belos’ victims getting over their pain to help him, because obviously he needs it more than they do! Because we gotta spare Belos’ feelings by giving him friends instead of consequences!!! Unbelievable. He is not Amity, not Lilith, and definitely not Hunter, and the people who forgave them had actual reason to do so. And even Lilith had to move in with her mother so she could be given reparations by someone who actually owed it to her, rather than her younger sister and two kids.
And there’s definitely a major difference between Lilith and Gwen’s dynamic and Philip and Caleb’s, especially since Caleb was also a child when he moved into Gravesfield. Even if you think Belos' bigotry was radicalized due to 'grief' over losing his brother to witches, that's just entitlement and control because it's not as if Caleb can't have more than one positive relationship in his life; Philip is no better than people who blame minorities for some incident in their life and use that as justification to become white supremacists, and there's nothing sympathetic or 'tragic' about that.
But the point is that Caleb ultimately wasn’t THAT important to Belos because he’d always be secondary to witch-hunting, Belos clearly chose his white supremacy over his brother, and any ‘takebacks’ that come in the form of the Grimwalkers are insincere given Belos does nothing to actually repent or regret his violence committed on the people of the isles; It’d have been one thing if he DID try to undo his mistake by choosing differently, by cloning Caleb and giving up witch hunting, but he still doesn’t (Note that Belos does not hallucinate the ghosts of the witches he killed; He still feels no remorse over them, because his fear of being wrong comes from a selfish place). And unlike Luz, Belos can’t have it both ways because one option explicitly calls for the extermination of the other; It’s the Paradox of Tolerance that Luz struggled with, except contrary to what Belos claims, humanity’s existence does not require the eradication of others.
Because yes there IS a meaningful moral distinction between Luz and Belos -don’t forget they’re not just parallels but explicit opposites- that occurs even before you get into the genocide, not that you should neglect that other part either because it’s incredibly important, being the starting point for this entire rant. Society already has a bias towards devil’s advocating bigotry as some big misunderstanding, and prioritizing the angst of white dudes who commit it over the victims of color; Can we avoid applying that to fiction?!??!? I literally saw someone complain that the show didn’t portray Belos’ grief from murdering Luz, and that Luz’s “glory moment” took away from a Wittebane backstory!!! At this point, people are just being racist.
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buckets-and-trees · 4 months
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Imagine coming home from work and Bucky is waiting for you like this🥵
This is the Bucky you come home to when he's been gone for weeks. He gets home from the mission well before he knows you'll be home from work. He showers the blood and dirt off, but he can't wash away all the troubles from his mind. The mission went well enough, but it was rough, and more than one "for the greater good" decision was made, and he knows they were necessary, but it doesn't make any of those tough choices easier.
He didn't quite mean to be waiting for you like this, he intended to put some clothes on, but he made the mistake of turning the television on and switching it to the news. They told him not to watch the news, but he can't help it, especially when they tell him not to. He becomes consumed listening to all the analysis of their fallout.
When you unlock the door and immediately hear the hum of of voices from the tv in the living room, you smile and hurry to hang your jacket and toss your bag on the little table in the entry. You lock the door behind you, and then make your way quickly down the hallway. When you see him engrossed in the news commentary, you pause, take a breath, and smooth down the front of your shirt. Bouncing and excited can be channeled into a different kind of happiness, one you know he needs more right now.
You cross the room, and instead of jumping into his arms, you switch off the television with the remote, and then crawl into his lap, straddling his waist. His arms wrap around you, and you cup his face in both your hands. You press your forehead to his, and you both close your eyes, breathing each other in.
"Welcome home, love."
You won't force him to talk now. He'll talk when he's ready. Now all you want is to show how much you missed him, how glad you are that he's safe and sound, and how much you need him, and you start with pressing your lips earnestly to his.
"Missed you," he murmurs against your mouth.
"Me, too," you breathe as his hands slip up beneath the hem of your shirt, one warm and one cool reclaiming the territory of your soft skin beneath his palms.
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watermelonsugacry · 1 year
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1d!yn are in these pics you can't convince me otherwise
still finishing up the grammys blurb but i can't not write about them for these pics rn
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Along with YN's manager, the whole Harry team has been cheering and congratulating him on his big win as they collectively walk over to the couple's green room. Everyone is ready to celebrate with champagne bottles, big hugs, and pictures...well almost everyone.
As everyone gathers around to look at the monumental award and passes around the red envelope with Harry's House on it, Harry walks off in the midst of the rowdy group. YN sees how he walks off to the corner of the room, crouches down, and puts his face in his hands. She gives her husband a sympathetic smile before going over to crouch down in front of him and putting her hands on his knees in comfort. He's immediately putting a hand on top of her black, latex-covered hand, gripping onto it tightly.
When she hears him sniffle, she turns to the small group of people in the room, "Do yeh lads mind giving us a minute?"
As they all begin to shuffle out, Anthony quickly snaps one last picture of the couple. He captures the way they hold each other's hands, foreheads pressed together with their eyes closed. Harry's nose is a light shade of pink and YN wears a soft smile.
Hearing the door click shut, she's suddenly getting a deja vu moment of the last Grammys they attended together in 2021. After YN won Producer of the Year, Harry quickly came into the room after hearing she was having a panic attack. While everyone else in the room left, he stayed by her side and calmed her down with sweet, loving words and comforting hands.
People tend to forget how overwhelming something like this can be. These two don't make music with the intention of winning awards like this; this is just a perk of the job, of doing something they love. So be recognized for something this big, Album of the Year, is a feeling too big to put into words.
So the couple just sits in comfortable silence for another moment longer, looking at each other with so much love and gratitude. Having each other during this monumental time in their lives is a greater blessing than any of them could have ever asked for.
YN reaches up to thumb away at a rouge tear on his cheek and he keeps her hand there, tilting his head to give a kiss on her palm before letting out a deep sigh. She stands up again but before he can ask her where she's going, she comes back over to his level with his Grammy.
They don't say a word as she hands him his award. They just share soft smiles before huffing out a light laugh in disbelief.
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After the awards ceremony and the after party was officially over, the couple still had a lot of engery (and alcohol) to burn off. The night was still young and there was no debate on arguing with the Grammy winners when they said they wanted to go get some pizza.
So at 3 o'clock in the morning, both of their managers, their photographers, and the rest of Harry's producers now sit around tables pushed together to create a space to fit all of them as the couple happily chomps away at their cheesy snacks.
"Yeh did really good with your performance, babe," YN compliments around a mouthful of pizza, her eyes the tiniest bit pink from the drinks she had earlier in the night. "Even with the whole turn-table fuck-up. Handled that shit like a fookin' pro."
"Thank you! Y'know," Harry beams, turning in his seat to fully face her. He rests an arm over the booth cushion behind her back and she hums in response, urging him to continue. "Think m'getting to be-" He takes in a deep breath as a tipsy hiccup shakes his upper body. "-be a pretty good dancer."
"I think so, too," She nods excitingly with wide eyes. "S'good thing you had your Satellite Stompers with yeh. It sucks ass when you have to perform in different shoes than what you originally practiced in."
"My what?" He asks with a smirk, stealing a bite of her pizza slice even though there are still plenty of pizzas around the table for him to grab.
"Your Satellite Stompers," She answers with a bashful giggle and his dimples dig further into his cheeks when he sees a blush grace the apples of her cheeks. "Ugh, s'stupid. Nevermind."
"Nuh uh. Tell me," He pokes, getting butterflies in his stomach at the sight of his gorgeous wife smiling up at the ceiling before sighing in defeat.
"S'just that, I posted a video of you doing your stompy stomps during Satellite one show and called your A.D.I.D.A.S. shoes that. And your fans have picked it up so...they're your Satellite Stompers. Don't laugh!"
"But that's the cutest thing I've ever heard! Anthony! Can y'get a picture of my--wait what were they called, babe?"
"Shut up!" She says with a laugh, pushing his face away from hers.
"Oh yeah, my Satellite Stompers."
She only laughs harder, her nose scrunching up in the cutest way possible as her husband scoots back into the corner of the booth and clumsily brings his foot up for them to see. While everyone else seems to ignore the giggly couple, Anthony brings his camera to his face to capture the shot.
As Harry points to his shoe, YN puts a hand under his heel as a presentation while she holds a slice of pizza to her mouth with the other.
SINCE 2010 masterlist
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