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#I don't think I've been obsessed with a performance in such a long time
personinthepalace · 1 year
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I am OBSESSED with Drew Sarich's performance of Poor Unfortunate Souls. Also while you're here, go check out the full concert celebrating the works of Alan Menken (Hollywood in Vienna 2022)
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throwaway-yandere · 3 months
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His Version Of You [Yan!Kaveh & Yan!Veritas Ratio/Reader]
a/n: tis another solid “twas a crack idea but I made it too serious” fic. kavetham rivalry is overrated af, KaTio is the way to go /j. when you finish it, can you answer the poll at the bottom on who you would pick between these two? bless you.
unreliable synopsis: When one grieves, sometimes it is best not to be reminded of who you're grieving for. Especially not by fighting over a recreation of their heart and soul. [based on @2broschlininahotub & @meimeimeirin's request]
content warnings/tags: [light yandere vs yandere]/[implied poly!yandere/reader] fic, geniuses who can't take a W, au shenanigans, the girlies love to bicker it’s their love native language
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"What were you thinking, you idiot?! Thank my reflexes that I caught the statue beforehand or else I would have to explain what a monumental mistake that is. Just use your common sense for once, will you?!"
"Please— I don't want to hear that from YOU of all people! This is MY stone. Stop acting like you actually care. You took us away from my world! You're the one who's too obsessed with researching it! It's like a damn test subject and not a companion to you!"
"That's because it is, you fucking oaf!"
"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING ME FALSE HOPE THAT IT'S A LIVING BEING!!!"
Veritas stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched and his frown the deepest Kaveh had ever seen. The architect, absolutely baffled at his experiment partner's harsh evaluation, felt his eyes dampening. His bumping of the sculpture was pure accident, but Veritas' sharp tongue cut deep into Kaveh's pride. Even the most understanding of men would find his tone abrasive.
Getting riled up…Over a damn statue.
"Just because it's alive, doesn't mean it's a companion. And just because it is a test subject, doesn't mean you can just near-topple it as you damn please."
The arguments subsided. They exchanged long looks as they tried to figure out how the "little dispute" had come dangerously close to abusive. With his anger gradually fading, Kaveh was the one to take the first initiative. Kaveh steeled himself. The architect's shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Jaded.
"Veritas... I'm sorry. As much as this statue… means… to me, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-I was just upset, you're aware that I've been working all afternoon polishing the statue and I took that anger out on you. I'm sorry." Kaveh said.
"Right." Veritas closed his eyes. "Apology accepted. I understand that you're visibly distressed, but I will not tolerate low-quality work."
As Kaveh was about to get defensive, Veritas placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Which is to say, take a rest, Kaveh. Work when you can guarantee peak performance." Veritas sighed. "Rest. Pompom has already prepared your bed for you."
Kaveh cast his gaze down on the floor, wearing a feeble smile. Though their list of grievances from the past days was enough to fill two pages, Veritas is steeped in cunning. He knew exactly how to plaster Kaveh's impulse.
"Right… I'm just tired."
"Precisely. The faster the progress, the greater the chance of errors." Veritas smiled back, although looking less sincere as Kaveh's. "Take a rest, Kaveh."
With a murmur, Kaveh got up and dusted off his pants from the metamorphic rock that had been sandpapered. People aren't made to stay cooped up inside all the time. He took one last look at the project before heading out for the night, noting that while the foundation was in place, work still needed to be done before they could decide on the final look. If he could just make the hands softer-looking…
"Kaveh…" Veritas chimed, warning with his arms crossed.
"Right, right!" Kaveh laughed nervously, still slightly vexed by the reproach. "Maybe I'm getting too brave at night, I don't know why I'm boldly thinking of trying my hand at smoothening the statue again."
"I'd consider you more weak-hearted than stouthearted," Veritas dusted Kaveh's shoulders off. "And do try to keep yourself clean."
"I'm too tired to run a shower…"
Veritas sighed loudly.
The both of them had decided to leave the studio with a degree of finality. Hunched over, the kidnapped architect left to take his well-deserved slumber while the doctor decided that a warm bath would benefit him more. The night "concludes", or so Kaveh thought.
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Looking back, these two are the most unlikely friends to exist, are they not? A professor slash doctor of the Intelligentsia Guild and the architect "Light of the Kshahwerar" collaborating over a glorified arts and crafts project. To truly understand this bizarreness, it is wise to look back to its beginning.
In his quest to rid the galaxy of a disease he dubbed "ignorance", Dr. Veritas Ratio sallied forth to practice his preachings. Even joined the Astral Express at some point, but it was only in this instance did he found companionship with an extremely empathetic individual. 
And their first meeting was not a decent starting point.
Veritas set out on his umpteenth assignment handed out by the Express. He was sent to explore the dangerous land formations of Sumeru with the trailblazer. Every extended curve revealed pyramids and sand, and Veritas kept Stelle close by using her straps as a leash. Nevertheless, when they accidentally entered an unstable domain, his disgruntled complaints ceased. Deciding it would be best for only one to investigate further, Veritas volunteered.
There was just one discernible light path inside the mostly collapsing structure. Yet, every step he took was curiously inaudible, and when he reached the Apex, he met the sight of blonde hair. 
Enter: Kaveh.
"You get what I mean right? It feels like my problems just keep piling up and up, like an impossible mountain. There's never anyone who would listen to me complain, but you…" The words that fell from the stranger's lips were sweeter than honey as he waxed poetic. "You're always here to listen. And it makes me feel so much less alone. Thank you…"
The blonde man had his cheek against a large rectangular rock, caressing it appreciatingly. His eyelids were lowered and his cheeks were puffy. Whether he cried beforehand or was merely exhausted cannot be assessed from Veritas' distance from him.
February 5, ████.
Kaveh had recently lost his lover that day. They died due to an unforeseen heart attack, which pains him more since his darling had always been healthy. Since his "delam" has passed away, he has been inconsolable. He refused to part with any possessions they left. No matter how many of their fellow archeologists begged for (Y/n)'s notes, he barked with gritted teeth that his mind would not change.
… How ironic that he used to call his lover "my heart" when the very same organ was the cause of death.
Neither wine nor friends can get a reaction out of him. The best he could do to continue living was to focus on his work and his young mentees. (Y/n) always wanted to be a teacher but couldn't because of their daytime job, so Kaveh fulfilled their dreams instead.
That includes continuing their research on the strange rock they had found in the desert.
Kaveh remained hotly bent on preserving everything they loved. Despite its unconventional and jagged appearance, the rock struck him as the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. Its lack of clear patterns didn't matter; it stood tall, capturing his fascination. It had ended his slump and had become an integral part of him. This hyperfixation had not gone unnoticed by Lesser Lord Kusanali, but when she visited him, she… strangely endorsed of his newfound lunacy. She knew something he did not.
Something about the rock… felt so similar to his deceased "delam".
The doctor, lacking any context for the sight before him, raised an eyebrow. His duty may be to educate others, but this was beyond help. A pell-mell of incoherent ramblings filled the room with the hither and thither of blonde hair to match. But this was the first person he encountered in Teyvat. And he was determined to get any info out of him.
"Excuse me."
The blonde man blinked repeatedly, eyes going wide at the sight of Veritas approaching.
"I'm Dr. Veri—"
"T-This isn't what it looks like!!!" The blonde freaked out. "This is– It's just! This rock, it has sentimental value and–"
"…" Veritas drawled. "Riiiight. I'm… Dr. Veritas Ratio. I'm not of this world— I believe my companions and I are what you refer to as Descenders. We wish to collect petrology info for databank purposes. May you offer assistance?"
Kaveh did not know what to say. But by instincts, he knew something was not entirely right with this man. 
He'd be right. Veritas wasn't there specifically for rocks. He's just, crudely put, nosy.
"And I am supposed to blindly believe any stranger who wears such a strange getup?" Kaveh stood up and protectively hid the rock behind him. "Sorry, I kindly refuse. And I am not equipped to help either."
Veritas smirked and cracked some knuckles with his left thumb.
There was a damn good reason why Stelle was left behind. On the entrance of the gate laid an inscription that roughly translates to the words "adepti" and "tribute". His intellect in this linguistics may be rusty, but it is not incorrect.
He had an inkling that the rock this peculiar blonde was obsessing over was imbued with a sliver of ambuscade soul who took arms against the worst opponents imaginable.
A "yaksha", if you were a Liyue local.
Veritas was by no means unmindful of Kaveh's obsession. He held his tongue, assessing that to set a quarrel with an unpredictable variable would prolong his journey. There was no profit to be had in angering an unreadable man. 
"Well then, if I can't take that rock within reason…"
Dr. Ratio opened his book.
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"… Long story short, that's why this chick is all wrapped up like a present."
Through brute force, both Stelle and Veritas managed to drop both Kaveh and the rock inside the Express, to the surprise of many. They were initially sent to only survey Teyvat (which meant Veritas positively lied to Kaveh earlier). No one expected an angry Sumeru man to "visit." 
"I-I am not a chick! I am a man! I'm Kaveh— an architect!!!" The self-proclaimed man wriggled around the trailblazer's yellow ropes, looking pale as he stared at the unfamiliar faces and scenery before him. "H-Hey!!! Unhand me at once!!!"
"Oh, you're not a girl? You're pretty, though."
"I should've known you would bring something peculiar on board, Dr. Ratio, I just didn't expect it to be a weird human-sized rock..." Said the red-haired lady. "But anyways, you, Sir Kaveh, have quite a remarkable sense of fashion."
"I haven't seen any guy wear earrings that big before…" The grey-haired girl said with grabby hands.
"Please don't try to yank it off him," the brown-haired man sighed and pulled her back with his cane.
Kaveh was a little taken aback by the diversity of tongues in front of him. It was clear based on their accents that they didn't quite come from the same world, yet they communicate as near-family. 
"Do all Teyvat people have rocks for friends or is it just you?" A strawberry-haired young lady asked as she approached the rock, which set Kaveh in an even more panicked frenzy when she attempted to poke it.
"N-NO!!! DON'T!!!" 
March flinched at his sudden scream and nearly fell had Stelle not caught her.
"Yeah, March, be respectful, you never know if that's the love of his life or something like that," said Stelle.
Kaveh's eyes widened. "You… How did you just understand me better than my friends…?"
The room went quiet. Dan Heng glanced at Veritas, who pretended not to notice him. Mentioning romance near him had always been a dangerous move. Veritas' face crumpled slightly. 
There were scars in his own heart he had yet to patch up, and he needed no reminder that he was procrastinating.
Dan Heng cleared his throat.
"It's bad news to have Stelle be the only one who "gets you" if you consider yourself of sane mind." Dan Heng spoke. "But then again, you remind me of Argenti…"
"Where did you find this man, Doctor?" Welt digressed, concerned as he towered above the tied Kaveh. The older man doesn't have objections to his (kidnapped) presence. He can tell by the look on both Kaveh and Veritas' faces that neither was a man with no substance, and the latter saw to exploit the former.
Veritas only shrugged and jabbed his thumb in Stelle's general direction. "Assistant…"
"On it." Stelle saluted solemnly. "We found him in a pyramid. The doctor thought he would be a worthy individual to study if we wish to understand the culture behind one of the seven nations. Since Mister Yang told us to befriend important people–"
"Since when was kidnapping synonymous with befriending?"
"–this is Ratio's candidate."
"That is correct, and he's not just any other person. I have seen him in the Guild's Persons of Interest. He is Kaveh, the light of the Kshahrewar," Veritas claimed. "A certified scholar of the Akademiya and the face for the Darshan he was an alumnus of."
The Express quietly signaled shock over Ratio's interest in the man. 
Kaveh slunk back, defeated. When there's little progress, a man naturally turns restive. Kaveh no longer had much to fear in his life. The worst had already come to pass, and the world became mere static noise. He had no hope of escaping soon, not when he saw his homeworld's true "sky". Or at least, back then, he thought it was one. The world he knew was a mere tapestry of ████…
"Not that there aren't enough rooms in the Express, but why bring him and the rock here?" Himeko paused to take a sip of her piping hot coffee. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, overkill?"
"It's because that pyramid is no place to cultivate a living species, and there's no better–... lab assistant... than this man before us." Dr. Ratio looked at the man on the floor. 
Dan Heng tried not to comment on how sad his tone was when Veritas referred to Kaveh as a "lab assistant". He knew what had happened to Ratio, but it was not the right time or place. 
"What do you mean by living?" Himeko asked.
"That rock has adeptal power within it that we can awaken. That is, if he'd help us make his little rock come to life."
With his words, he moved the unweariable Kaveh to act complacent.
Kaveh felt as though the floor caved beneath him. An unholy mixture of disbelief, awe, and joy swirled within his already jetlagged mind. The fact of the matter was, despite being incredibly unstable, he was lucid enough to know that a miracle was possible. 
"What…?"
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"It's been a month since that whole debacle," Veritas muttered to himself as he flicked the wrist that held his book away from the bathtub's bubbly waters. "I suppose I was harsh to the poor man. But is that treatment not at all deserved?"
Over time, Veritas grew to like Kaveh, especially after knowing he was tutoring young aspiring architects free of charge. Still, Kaveh's strangely compliant behavior does not deviate from his first impression. His empty eyes were enough sign that Kaveh lived through emotionally draining struggles and came out with few real friends. He lost his raison d'etre, that's why he willingly threw his life in Teyvat away.
… In Kaveh's words, he only wished for a "vacation". If his prize was to go elsewhither with a satisfying result, then he's not opposed to (getting kidnapped) a new "collaboration".
The doctor can't say no to it either.
Deep down, prodigy genius Veritas couldn't deny the harsh truth: witnessing that pitiful man finding solace in an inanimate object was a stark reminder that he harbored the same "illness".
Hence, Veritas offered consistent "insults" to the brightest of Kshashrewar, and each time, Kaveh took the opportunity to improve. Veritas considered it a necessary evil. But even after surpassing those challenges, Kaveh was helpless to overcome the deep emptiness that persisted in his soul.
Kaveh never really spoke about who his previous lover was. All everyone knew was that he lovingly called them "delam"– his heart. They didn't want to bring him more pain by even asking a simple question like delam's real name.
A huge mistake later on.
"... Tch," Veritas grunted, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. The thought of his last love affairs had soured his mood.
Veritas stood from his bath, drying himself and wrapping a towel on his lower half.
… He likely won't sleep tonight.
Forgetting his agreement to continue the project tomorrow morning, he unlocked the door to the studio room Himeko lent them. He left trails of his wet footsteps. His wavy hair also remained damp, but he could not care much for it. Veritas will dress himself up later. Just a towel will suffice for now.
"Sculpting…"
Veritas laughed to himself as he took some tools off the table.
"Wasn't this your pastime and not mine—" he closed his eyes, muttering the next words with a teasingly melancholic tilt. "Assistant (L/n)?"
His grip on the chisel tightened, painting his knuckles white.
Professor (Y/n) (L/n).
The person responsible for the Council of Mundanites' existence. Their name rarely escapes his lips, treating their memory like a curse. Just exhaling the thought of them out of his system makes him nauseous. As if the air inside him gets knocked out. His eyes would flutter shut, no different from a dying man who held weakly holds on. Veritas hated this anguish. The doctor hated this vicious seemingly never-ending cycle called "grief".
"(Y/n)…" Ratio muttered. "Your face is still etched in my mind. What more do I need to eradicate these… unnecessary burdens?"
He could practically hear them laugh beside him.
Haha, please. You think about me so much that you consider me burdensome? Oh, you dork! If you loved me so much, you should've written a love letter.
"You absolute ignoramus," Veritas laughed softly. "You cannot discredit my efforts, though, can you?"
"My dearest…" He breathed out in pain once more. "My most wonderful partner. The best teaching assistant I ever had. You…"
… Never loved him back.
Dr. Veritas Ratio was no idiot. He despised any form of delusion. Throughout his life, he had been a tyrannical figure who pursued truth and not stagnant idolatry for every "patient". But when an immovable force meets an unstoppable object, would you consider him a tamed emperor?
Professor (L/n) was the first person he met who brazenly called themselves a "mundanite". A true mediocre. And they were beautiful at their very core.
Not free of sin, but free of hubris.
Molded as a genius since birth, the very foundations of (L/n)'s philosophies dismantled Ratio. (L/n) admired geniuses like Herta, but never romanticized the notion of natural-born wits. They always strived to eradicate their own "ignorance". But even when they are more knowledgeable than they let on, (L/n) never boasts. This behavior provides no benefit in an academically competitive field. Nothing confused the irrefutable prodigy like their longtime academic partner.
Geniuses— Masters— when I achieve great things, I don't want to have silly titles before my name. It's so… rigid, don't you think so, Veritas?
I wouldn't know.
Ha! Of course, you wouldn't. You've lived your entire life as one. But level with me for a second. Wouldn't life be less boring if…
He raised the chisel.
… we never stopped considering ourselves as mere beginners? Isn't there more joy to being a mundane with untapped potential than a stiff jack of all trades? C'mon, Veritas. Doesn't the idea that there's always more to explore make this vast world seem less dull?
Veritas bit his lip. Tears were threatening to spill.
February 5, ████.
It was Dr. Veritas Ratio's fault that they died that day. He thought (L/n) was capable of handling an extremely dangerous laboratory mishap. They were not. Despite his assistant's years of experience, every man is an unsuspecting fledgling in the face of death. It does not discriminate between the mediocre and the brightest.
That's absurd, (L/n). What is the point of learning if not for its mastery?
"Assistant… Let me offer this final tribute so that you can finally s-stop… haunting… me."
But they will never stop. Their last long exchange repeated in his head throughout the night. No matter how many times he hammered, the clanging sound did not drown out the voices in his head. The words mocked him, over and over, and over.
I'm sorry Veritas…
Why are you apologizing?
… I'm afraid I just don't see you that way. I'm just an ordinary person, and I doubt I could ever genuinely return the love of someone as brilliant as you. I'm afraid your affection might be akin to caring for a pet, and I can't find it in myself to figure out how to respond in kind.
… That's not true. You cannot simply decline my confession with a lukewarm excuse—
I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary college professor with no PhDs. I will have to reject your love. I'm so sorry.
But why?!
"(Y/n)… The one person I can never grasp…" Veritas muttered as he looked at the finished piece. "Here you are... Created by my own hands..."
Beautiful. Not a single doubt that it was carved in their likeness. The (Y/n) he knew was a professor who loved their teaching job, but wished they were more of an adventurer. Secretly, (Y/n) wanted to be an archeologist, and perhaps that's one of the reasons why Veritas let the mysterious rock formation inside the Express. Maybe if they continued living, they would've liked this gesture.
Ha… As if.
Veritas—
W-What aspect must I improve on? To dismiss me so impatiently— do I lack the charm? I can always learn to suit your tastes. Don't tell such a bold lie. I highly doubt that it is due to my academic performance. There's another man you've wasted your affections on, is there?!
Veritas, please…
Enough! Enough with these lies and tell me! J-Just… Just tell me, (Y/n)!
He's tired. Veritas just wanted to hold them again. He just wanted to "fix" their hair- tucking his golden hairpin to subconsciously teach their associates and students that Professor (L/n) was his. He missed the way he would hide (L/n)'s lab coat just so he could make them wear his as he left for the day. He missed secretly leaving small love confessions on their class grade spreadsheets, add/drop forms, and even their private online journals so he would read messages about how they must've caught a computer virus. He missed teasing them when they hadn't got a clue that he was unserious. He missed hearing (L/n) whine. He missed the way it made him warm.
He missed the warmth.
"Stop..."
He missed you.
"Stop this..."
And he continues to miss his (Y/n) so much.
"Please..."
It's unbearable.
There is no one else.
Yes, there is! I refuse to believe it! It's your recent lab partner, isn't it!? The man everyone has fallen for— you have taken a liking to him more than me, the person who has been with you all this time!!! You… You ungrateful!—
Veritas is so, so tired and more chipped than the rock he had worked on… Unlike the statue, he cannot tangibly pick up the pieces (L/n) that broke him in. There's only a hollow void of what could've been.
Why... Why did they have to reject him? If they hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have coldly assigned (Y/n) to deal with the containment breach alone. He would've thought it through. He would've realized he was plagued with ignorance. He would've changed so many things that February 5th.
But that's all there was to it. Just "would have"s, not "have done"s.
Ngh–?! Why… did you... slap me…?
Veritas, maybe you should stop and look down and listen to us common-minded folks for once in your life! The simple fact is that you're just so out of reach. How can you love me, when you don't even understand me, Genius Ratio? How can you confess when you don't know what it's like to work for the knowledge you have? How can you love a "mundanite" like me?
… (Y/n)… T-That's simply untrue, and you are aware of that...
It's morning, an appropriate time to head back to his guest room.
When he was certain that he was alone, Veritas finally allowed himself to cry.
"There's no mistake that we both are- were idiots. We both failed to see that I'm a mundanite, just like you."
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In contrast to his former roommate, Kaveh is an early riser. Not exactly a morning person, but a man of discipline nonetheless. Perhaps the concluded argument last night made his rise more motivating. He had no qualms with getting out of bed, heading straight to take a shower before drinking coffee with Himeko.
The morning was wordless but calm.
Whatever happened after he reentered the studio, however, was the exact opposite.
"Delam…?" Kaveh knelt with both knees down on the floor, shocked.
"Is that you…? Delam… Delam!!!"
You tilted your head.
Delam. That was the first word you've heard upon your birth or "rebirth", depending on whose narrative was at play. You first rose from your slumber much like an earth's crust would give way to a volcano. Warmth seeped from your chest and then throughout your body, filling you with life and newfound nerves. But no one was around. You had been observing the fading trail of wet footsteps, yet lacked the courage to leave the room.
Veritas was right. The rock does have life. And you have been awakened.
You looked human. You move human.
But you do not sound human.
"Delam! I-I can't believe this!"
For words fail.
「… Who are you?」
After all, since when can statues speak?
With unsteady legs, he attempted to approach your nearly nude figure. The sheet they used to keep out dust was the only cover you had. He pulled you in when he got close enough, and you wanted to squeak when he rested his nose on your shoulder. His breath tickled hot. However, his warm tears helped you to accept the melancholic reality.
"Delam! D-Delam, my sweetheart, my (Y-(Y/n)… A-Ah… Ah…"
Kaveh pulled back only to kiss your forehead. He was warm. You are not. Despite the fabrics he wore, you can feel his heat against your "skin". His heart was beating. Such an organ does not exist inside of you.
"(Y/n), my (Y/n)…" He gasped out between peppered kisses on your neck. "Mine… My heart has returned to me. Can you hear it too? It's beating again… It beats… I never thought I'd hear my heart again since you've been gone…"
His words made little sense to you, but you knew he liked your form. Kaveh's fingers traced around you, loving each inch, whether it was curved flesh or bone-like sharpness— he didn't care for he knew it was his (Y/n) (L/n).
He's so colorful. Reds, yellows, oranges, and even hints of blues and greens. It made you silently conscious about how you were a boring dull gray.
Warm, like the sun.
「… Baobei?」
"My (Y/n)… D-Delam…" Kaveh pressed his forehead against yours, your lips nearly touching.
You wiped his tears away.
Was that your name? (Y/n)…?
"Kaveh, what the hell are you doing?!"
The blonde man momentarily stopped cradling you out of shock.
This new man was all purples, blue, gold, and small taints of cyan and red. The expression he wore made you believe he might be covetous beyond mankind. There's a level of gluttonous greed in his anger that makes even the earth like yourself phased.
「… Who is he…?」
Both of them feel familiar to you, but you do not know why.
"Veritas!" Kaveh's eyes widened. "A miracle just happened— delam— they're—!"
"Put (Y/n) down this instant!!!"
Kaveh blinked.
"What… What did you say?"
"I said put them down, damn it! Who the hell are you, touching them so carelessly like they're yours?!"
Kaveh's eyebrows furrowed.
"How do you know that name?!" Kaveh yelled. "How did you know who (Y/n) is!?"
The doctor was equally confused.
Why would the ignorance-prone Kaveh know the name of his deceased love too?
Veritas has not talked about his old assistant to any breathing being for a long time. Talking felt like admitting that they were gone for good. But in this case, it produces a contrary result.
"Why the fuck wouldn't I?!"
"I don't know— maybe because you're not from Teyvat?!"
"What are you on, you imbecile?! Can you stop defiling them with your filthy hands?!" Veritas scowled and summoned his book. "Hands. Off."
The warning only made Kaveh even more possessive. He gently pushed you behind his back, glaring at him.
"No."
"Kaveh, you pestilence ridden—!!!"
"No, not until you tell me why the hell you know the name of my fiance!"
Veritas' heart sank.
… Fiance?
No… No, no way.
What's happening? How would that make sense?!
(Y/n) is his. Why should you belong to Kaveh?
"Are… are you insane?!" Veritas screamed. "I should've—"
"What?! Threw me off the Express?! I dare you!!!" Kaveh glared. "You knew you couldn't win against me alone, that's why your best bet was to knock me out— and you know it."
"Ngh."
Neither of them realized the greater reason as to why they knew the "same" person. The doctor may have jumped through various universes, but he had not done enough to notice a key factor.
There they were, claiming to love the image behind their animated statue— when they didn't know what it was they cried for.
"Just answer the question: who is (Y/n) to you?" Kaveh grumbled.
Somehow, he was far more frightening when his voice was calm and low. 
The usually diplomatic architect materialized his weapon out of thin air.
"Go on. Tell me."
The doctor stiffened. There was no way Veritas was losing this argument. 
It's unethical. Wholly unethical to appeal to pathos in this manner. To weave tales for his benefit.
But the end justifies the means.
Veritas flashed you a guilt-ridden expression…
Before he said the biggest lie known only to himself.
"Professor (Y/n) (L/n) is MY dead lover, and I molded the statue based on their appearance last night!" Veritas yanked a fistful of Kaveh's shirt and brought him closer. "So why are you claiming them as YOURS?!"
The sound of a cane hitting the floor stopped all hell from possibly breaking loose.
Welt Yang had one foot inside the room and one out the door. He wore a knowing and empathetic look. The others were behind him, looking particularly shaken up.
This screaming match was the worst the two ever had.
"Kaveh, Dr. Ratio, enough." He calmly spoke up. "I think I understand the confusion."
"Allow me to explain…"
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"I'm surprised you have no comments on their flower-bespangled clothes, yet…" 
"The aesthetic is... tasteful. I like the headdress." 
"Of course, you like the crown of laurel…" 
"However–"
"Oh Lord Kusanali, here we go…"
Upon Welt's intervention, every piece started to fit together. The explanation was a frustratingly simple but difficult truth. (Y/n) (L/n) was not just one entity in the vast universe— there are inevitable variations.
The two eventually calmed down as they heard both sides. Veritas' (Y/n), who Kaveh later refers to as an "expy" as a placeholder name, was a professor— while Kaveh's "delam" was an archeologist. Almost the same, but not a complete copy-paste.
You, however, they are unsure of. No one knows yet if you do carry (Y/n)'s soul or if you're a mere replica. Veritas is working on the hypothesis that you were an adeptal tool who aided in freeing the vigilant yaksha from a malevolent Sumeru God.
But those bits of info doesn't matter in the end. Why?
Because they both love "you" deeply.
And these intelligent men can "learn" how to share.
"Are you not tired? Perhaps it is time I take over. Only a fool would work when completely drained." Dr. Ratio then added. "Does it not fall in my skilled hands to weave such clothing for them now? Even better than mere fabric, I'm willing to handle clay and mold it around their bo—"
"Considering how many fools can also calculate and perhaps wear an asbestos mask as a quirky character trait, it is surprising that the fool in front of me thinks he can show proficiency over a tedious task." Kaveh raised an eyebrow, seething at the thought of Veritas' unfair perverted touch lingering on your body, again.
"I think you are experiencing what is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, as Mister Yang calls it." He added.
Veritas scoffed.
They may be revered both as geniuses in their fields, but they're reduced to kindergarten-like rivals when it comes to you. Their first order of business after another truce was to provide your clothes. Fortunately, Stelle's fashion sense was more unisex than anticipated so you borrowed hers in the meantime.
While you sat on the sofa with the bubbly March 7th, the two started planning your wardrobe. Kaveh returned later on the same evening with the most… floral clothes much to Veritas' dismay.
He missed seeing his version of (Y/n) who wore classic academic styles, not— whatever this was.
"It is mere confidence; no other variable is at play. The fool in question is the artisan responsible for the expeditious sculpting of the aforementioned statue within a singular nocturnal interval. A fact that eludes your appreciation, my less-than-appreciative and unskilled interlocutor."
Kaveh momentarily had the face of a man unpracticed in speech. People often forget that he majored in STEM, not HUMSS. Though he had some essay-based minors in his first & second years, he lacked preparation for Veritas' otherworldly vocabulary. Kaveh would whet his greatsword if Veritas said something bluntly deprecating.
Still, he can't deny that it was through Veritas' handiwork that made your hands as soft as Kaveh wanted them to be. And that secretly pisses him off.
You tilted your head.
Somehow, your creators are arguing again. 
"Are you threatening to rob me of the joys I have toiled nights for just to sate your shortlived desires, Veritas?" Kaveh rebuked him sternly. "I didn't know you were kind of a brat."
"I am only offering a hand. But it's clear that you are projecting onto me."
「You two–. 」
You tried to cut in, but can't utter a word…
"I'm not projecting! I know that once you prove you can make clothes, you'll kick me out of the Express, that's just the kind of man you are! Manipulative, arrogant—"
"And you're insecure. There is no more loathsome creature than a man who does not acknowledge his own hubris and repeats his mistakes."
「Master Veritas, Master Kaveh—. 」
You loathed to watch them fight for another round of meaningless squabbles. Why weren't you blessed with speech?
"Is that so? Do you seriously subscribe to that belief?"
"Why, of course."
"You should listen to better men than yourself, then."
"Oh c'mon, knock it off!!!" March cut in, giving them both a light smack with Veritas' book. "Can't you get along better? Your little darling looks upset!!!"
The two halted. She was right, you weren't comfortable. Veritas cleared his throat awkwardly while Kaveh looked down, both apologetic.
"See, Kaveh? Your persistence caused this."
"How is it MY fault?"
"I'm merely stating that the lack of options is bound to make them uneasy." Veritas deadpanned and handed you an IPC magazine he had been trying to get you to browse. "Why don't you pick to your liking? Don't worry about expenses. I have it covered."
"What?! Do you want them to wear those un-stylish clothes? Please, you just want to have them wear your brand!"
"Don't project your carnal possessiveness as my own." Veritas scoffed. But Kaveh was right. He missed seeing his (Y/n) wear his lab coat.
"Oh really?! Fine then! Let's ask (Y/n) what they really think!"
March sighed. "Guys, I think you're forgetting that you're fighting over clothes—"
But they didn't hear her. Nothing else mattered to those two except you. And you alone.
Their partner.
Their heart.
Their reason for living.
Hence, they yelled in unison.
"Who do you prefer, assistant? Him or me?!"
"Who do you prefer, delam? Him or me?!"
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Taglist: @vennnnn-diagram, @meimeimeirin, @korianne, @prophecy-harmony, @shellofthewell, @sagekun,
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cumtastiics · 4 months
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Just found your blog & I'm in love with your writing 😍 If requests are open, may you please write about a yan!ceo & a worker y/n?
YAN!CEO x G/N WORKER
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this is so sweet 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 i saw this and was kicking my feet in the air twirling my hair
this is also my like softest yandere oc so far HELP
tw: yandere, stalking, obsessive behavior
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"This one is probably the top employee of the month," his secretary told him, pointing to a picture of you on the papers he had spread across his desk. "They just came back from a break, so maybe they motivated themself to do better."
"(Y/N) (L/N)," he read your name, looking at your information. "I've never seen them before,"
"They're in the marketing team, you never paid much attention to the people in the team other than the leader, sir."
"Well, it's about time I get to know the top performers in my company, don't you think?"
His secretary nodded, "Absolutely, sir. (Y/N) has been consistently delivering exceptional results in marketing campaigns. The team has praised their creativity and dedication."
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he's so sweet to you!! but it scared you since you weren't used to the ceo exactly paying any attention to you :(
he sometimes sees you working for long hours, coming to you to tell you, you can leave now, but feels his heart almost jump out when you say it's okay, you can work for a bit longer.
at times you thought he hated you, maybe he was trying to tease you? or what if he was out to get you? you tried to steer away from him, but it made him almost cry.
he probably tried following you home, but was so shocked to see your living conditions! (you lived in a normal home, he was just too rich) all of a sudden your bills are paid! by who? your landlady says it was by a young gentleman, he was very handsome, according to her.
gets you your favorite drink (he overheard about him from some other employees) almost every day! but he can't deliver it directly to you, since he can't let his own employees know he has favorites.
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pippin-katz · 9 months
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One Shots in Red, White & Royal Blue - Part 1: Alex's Room
Modern movies are fucking obsessed with jump cuts. Even scenes where it is completely unnecessary get cut to shreds. There's films I've seen where one, single sentence line got three jump cuts in it.
After watching Red, White, & Royal Blue over ten times now, I’ve noticed so many moments where they could’ve made jump cuts, but didn’t. There were moments where I was expecting it to cut because of how used I am to other movies cutting the shit out of scenes. They did not do that here, and believe me, it makes a difference.
Cuts temporarily remind the viewer that they're watching something scripted, professionally filmed, and edited. It's a subconscious feeling that most people probably don't even notice.
In case you're unfamiliar, a one shot in film is when a sequence happens without any cuts. One of the benefits of using them is the believability they add. Any amount of time could've progressed between cuts, like if they film a scene on two different days. When you see everything happening in real time, it just feels more real.
Red, White, & Royal Blue balanced their editing and camerawork incredibly well, and utilized one shots way more than I see a lot of other films doing nowadays. They use it for a variety of scenes, and it's done very well.
Example No. 1
From this moment, where Henry enters the room:
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GIF by taylorz-nicholasg
To Henry pushing Alex onto the couch:
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GIF by sheisraging
To when the sequence ends:
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GIF by gay-bucky-barnes
is ALL ONE SHOT.
There are no camera cuts during that sequence, and there's a significant amount of movement and activity going on.
They are obviously aggressively making out, and crossing the room at the same time. Tracking this part might be common, but when they get to the couch, and Henry pushes him, I got this gut feeling that a jump cut was about to happen, but it didn't.
Instead, the camera rotates around to that side perspective, and lets Henry come back into frame and onto the couch in real time.
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GIF by sheisraging
The camera doesn't change position until Henry moves down, which could've been a cut to Alex's face, but they opted to zoom in on him, keeping the shot connected.
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GIF by sheisraging
This is not a small series of events to capture in one shot, and it means that Nicholas and Taylor had to memorize and perform the entire scene's blocking as a whole rather than in parts. If they mess up, they can't just say: "hey try that line again"
A one shot scene like this means that if you mess up at any point during the sequence, you can't use the take. You have to do it again from the beginning. That's the point of a one shot.
I think it's such a testament to Taylor and Nicholas' talent, skill, and dedication that they did such a long shot involving so much intimate, and difficult, choreography.
Breaking it down, they have to kiss for the first part, but it's not just kissing; it's aggressive kissing. Their eyes are closed, and they're grabbing at each other, while crossing the room. Taylor has to walk backwards. They need to have really good spatial awareness in order to move without hitting something or tripping.
Once they hit the couch, Nicholas has to undo the buttons on Taylor's shirt. If you've ever worn a button-down shirt, you know that sometimes you just struggle with those damn buttons; there's a moment in Paris where they joke about them. Nick has to undo them fast, and deliver his lines too. If he's too slow with the buttons, or they get stuck, take ruined.
Nick has to shove Taylor onto the couch. He has to be visibly forceful, but not knock him down so hard he falls off the couch, or land in a way that make it difficult for him to shift into where he's supposed to be. Nick also has to climb around onto the couch fast enough.
Obviously once they're on the couch, the difficulty comes in that they are being intimate, kissing and grabbing each other, and they need to remain in character. Then they have lines, and Nicholas has to get even more intimate by kissing his neck. He undoes another button or two and kisses his chest and down his stomach, all while delivering his lines correctly.
If either of them messes up a line, or breaks character for a second, or loses their balance, or anything, go back to the start, do it all again.
That is so much, and the two of them nailed every part of it. I still admire how they were able to trust each other and become confident in doing all that they do.
This being a one shot created a really incredible scene. It's fluid, and grounded in space and time. It's not the only scene that's drastically improved by the fact that it's a one shot, so I'll probably write more essays breaking down those scenes cause this movie has me in a choke hold.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Forever and Ever (Astarion x Reader)
I'm going to sob and throw up everywhere this was so incredibly sweet.
Tw - mention of scars (i think that's it)
Recommended Song: Ronson Princess - Clarence James
Waking up to the sunlight gleaming through the red fabric, you and Astarion wrapped in each other's arms. It's odd for you to wake up before him, especially since he doesn't have to sleep all that much, but he's been particularly stressed the past couple of days. Baldur's Gate has brought up a lot of unpleasant memories, things he would've rather left behind. But sadly, everything has brought you back here, and he still wants Cazador dead. Perhaps that's what's weighing on him so heavily, knowing facing his master is so close.
You stare at his sleeping face for a long while, letting the sun continue trickling in, knowing soon he won't get this, soon that freedom of being in the sun, it'll be taken from him, just like everything else. Today you've prepared very special plans, kindly getting everyone to leave camp for the day. Before things change drastically, you want him to have something nice, a day without fighting, a day without talking about Cazador, a day without walking past taverns that he'd rather forget. You continue to smile at him, as his eyelids slowly flicker open. He smirks.
"I can practically hear you staring at me you know."
"Well good, at least you know how gorgeous I think you are."
You leave a kiss on his nose. Locking his fingers into yours, you start tracing his knuckles, all the little lines, tiny scars from fights, the callouses on his palm. He'd deny that he had them to anyone else.
"So... I have a surprise for you."
His ears perk up.
"Oh really? Whatever did I do to deserve such a thing?"
"You know I've said this a million times, but you don't have to do anything to deserve a gift my love. I just know you've been really stressed since we got back in the city, so I thought it would be nice if we had a day away from everything, just to ourselves."
"As if we could ever get time to ourselves with our hooligan friends."
You grin.
"That's the best part, I got them all to go do something else today, so we have the entire camp to ourselves!"
You feel a little bad, being so excited that your friends are leaving you alone, but Astarion likes the quiet. Sure, he's a performer, making little quips in a crowd, but it's that solitude, especially with you, that he cherishes. Maybe he was Stockholmed into it, being forced to be alone so often, but it was usually better than dealing with his 'siblings,' or Cazador. At least rats can't cut you up when they feel like having a good time.
"You seriously kicked out all of our friends so we could be alone for the day? However did you manage that?"
"I may have put some of your manipulation tactics to use..."
Last night, you just so happened to make an off-handed comment about something that would interest each of them. It wasn't too hard, especially since everyone in your group is obsessive over one subject at least, if not more. One by one, they decided they'd spend the day checking out something in the city.
"I have never been more in love with you."
You lock lips, running your hands through his hair, realizing that quite uncharacteristically, he hasn't washed it in days. He's usually quite ritualistic with his appearance, no doubt due to how he always had to look perfect. The habits simply stuck around, but he doesn't mind all that much.
"So, I have a whole day of activities planned!"
He sighs, thinking you mean some intensive itinerary.
"Okay maybe not activities, but nice little calming things to do. I call it... self-care day."
You look way too proud of yourself, and Astarion makes it known.
"What, dear gods, is self-care day? I am all for caring about yourself, as I am spectacular, but an entire day?"
"Yes. It's supposed to be overkill. Just a whole day of absolute bullshit, so you don't have to worry about anything!"
"As if I have ever gone a day without worrying."
You sit up, lifting him up to sit with you.
"Well, we're going to try, because you deserve it. Pleaseeeeee, I just want to spoil you."
He can't ignore your pleading, especially when you look at him with those soft eyes, a gaze that could ask for anything and he'd oblige.
"Alright fine, I will follow along on your self-care day, even if it sounds a little silly."
"Great! So, remember how I went out after dinner last night, and I told you that you couldn't come with me because I was doing something super special and secret?"
"Oh, when I was terrified of you roaming the city by yourself? No, why would I remember that at all?"
His voice is absolutely dripping in sarcasm.
"You know as well as anyone that I can take care of myself, you just like being a chivalrous piece of shit to people that are mean to me."
He shrugs.
"Yes. That sounds entirely reasonable, why would I not do that?"
"Okay yes whatever you like protecting me blah blah blah. We're getting away from the story. I found lots of cool little things, for example..."
Your voice trails off as you dig through your bag, trying to find the cloth sack you got your hands on yesterday. After you find it, you slowly open the pouch.
"I found your favorite tea!"
It's quite a particular brew, one you're pretty sure was made in this city. It's almost impossible to find anywhere else, and when you find it here, it's usually expensive. You hand the bag to him, and he takes in the scent. Blackberry, lavender, ginger, and a couple notes of citrus. Is it way too complex? Yes, quite, but he likes to dissect the flavor, focusing on the different components in the drink.
"You remember that thing I said, what was it... about saving money for, oh I don't know, a place to live after this? You know this is far too expensive my dear."
"It's fine, I can pickpocket a few people."
He laughs.
"You mean I can pickpocket a few people and you'll say you were there for moral support?"
"Yes."
Astarion simply sighs, because if he didn't love you, gods would he absolutely hate you. You could probably say the same thing about him though, so at least you're even. He grabs two cups from somewhere in the mess of his belongings, and the two of you make your way to the dying campfire. As you grab some water from one of the carafes, he adds some more wood to the fire, casting ignis instead of actually putting in the work to start a fire. Usually you would tease him about how he doesn't know how to start a fire, but today he's allowed to take the easy way out. You begin boiling the water for your tea.
"Okay, time for surprise number two while surprise number one is still cooking up."
"Oh, a second surprise?"
"It's self-care day, not self-care hour. There are many surprises to come."
You quickly walk to Gale's tent, bringing back a charcuterie board, filled with small finely cut fruits and mini cheese wedges.
"Ta-da!"
Astarion takes in the beauty of the spread, his heart fluttering a little. Sure, he doesn't have to eat, but he certainly lives for the finer things in life, and a charcuterie board is one of them. After all, eating things that aren't bloody animals makes him feel a little more normal. You smile, realizing he's actually excited and isn't relentlessly teasing you.
"I bought them last night and had Gale put together the spread this morning. I know it's less romantic but-"
"No my sweet it's... it's wonderful."
The two of you eat heart shaped strawberries and little pieces of cheese while you wait for the tea to brew.
"I know I joked a lot, but I do really appreciate all of this darling. It's nice, to know someone cares about me this much. Especially to know that you care about me this much."
"Of course my love. You deserve this and so much more."
You kiss his neck, leaving a little bit of juice from the strawberries. It's hard sometimes for Astarion to remind himself that the worst is behind him, that all he has to do now is deal with his master, and he can finally leave all of this shit behind him. He can finally have that life he wants, with you in some nice house, sleeping together in a nice bed every single day. It's also hard to remember that you love him, that he isn't some charity case you picked up, that you do all of this out of the kindness of your heart. He thought for the longest time that no one was truly kind, and that if they were, they were going to be dead soon enough, and yet he would do anything it took to keep you safe, one of the kindest souls he's ever met. He tears up a little, thinking about how you would care this much, that anyone could care this much about him.
"Are you okay Aster?"
You wipe a tear off his cheek.
"Yes, I'm alright. Just sentimental, that's all."
The way his eyes get wide when he cries, as if he's letting the world in for once, you always notice it.
"That's okay, you can cry all you want. Besides, usually makes you feel better after."
While you're consoling him, you pour out two cups of tea, handing him the first. You take a sip, realizing why this is his favorite. Sure, it's a lot going on, but there's something luxurious about it, soothing, as if made for royalty. Astarion wipes at a couple of his tears, and takes a sip.
"I'm serious though Tav, you have got to stop spending all of our money after this. I'll take this one nice day, but after that, it's back to pinching pennies for us."
Always worried, always thinking about the next thing, always five steps ahead. He's always had to be, playing his life like chess, knowing he's a pawn in some far greater game, knowing if he makes one wrong move he'll lose everything. You don't blame him one bit. After all, the two of you do need enough money to buy a place after all of this is over, and yet you don't worry about it, knowing you'll figure it out. Things have worked out for you so far, and they'll continue to. They simply must.
"Alright, deal."
After sitting and drinking your tea for a while, talking about what you want in the house when you finally buy it, you lead him down to the nearby creek so you can wash his hair.
"Now I know what you're going to say-"
"What, that I could simply do it myself and that you don't have to do something ridiculous like wash my hair for me?"
"Yes... something like that, yeah."
"Then why would you even try asking if you could?"
"Because I love you, and I want to, and I don't want you to have to worry about it."
You stay silent for a second.
"...and I may have bought a really nice shampoo from a store in the city even though I probably shouldn't have splurged but I just want you to have nice things..."
You make those puppy eyes at him, expecting him to say no or give you some lecture.
"Alright, if you insist."
"Wait, really?"
"Yes. Now go ahead and start before I change my mind and lecture you about how to properly bargain for things."
Now this, is a truly rare occurrence. He's so particular about his hair, to the point where he has to fix it every time you mess with it. You swiftly fill a bucket of water and take the nice shampoo out of your bag, putting yet another strawberry in your mouth.
"Seems like you're enjoying the strawberries much more than I am."
He says as he turns his back to you, the two of you sitting in the grass by the creek.
"Hey, it's a board for the both of us. If you're not eating off of it, that's your loss."
You mumble while still chewing on the fruit. He realizes you're right and grabs another piece of cheese before you eat it all. You motion for him to take his shirt off so he doesn't get water all over it, and soon you start working through his hair. It's sadly become quite knotted the past couple of days, due to neglect from the slump he's been in. You try your best not to get sad about it, knowing it's the truest sign of just how out of it he's been. Between dirt and knots and dried blood, there's plenty for you to work through, slowly but surely cleaning it all out, combing through it along the way.
"Are you sure I'm not going to look like a wet cat when you're done?"
You laugh at him.
"Hey, I never said anything about styling, just that I'd wash it. How it looks after is on you."
You don't see it, but he smiles. He has this moment of realization, a sense of clarity. This is it. The thing he's wanted all his life, he's found it, and it's someone so unlike him. And yet somehow, here you were, madly in love, eating fruit and cheese by the water, simply taking care of each other.
"I want it to stay like this forever."
He says suddenly. Your face lights up.
"Me too."
You put down the comb, wrapping your arms over the tops of his shoulders. He holds onto your hands, as if he's realizing for the first time just how real you are. You're here, and he's here, and you're in love. What a wonderful thing, to truly be in love, to have a plan, to have a future. He never really had a future, just a present, day after day. But now there's hope, a life after today, and tomorrow, and the day after.
"Would you do this again sometime? This whole, self-care thing with me? It's been quite nice."
You leave a couple of kisses on his shoulder, and he feels you smile into his skin.
"Of course. As many times as you want my love. Forever and ever."
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lycheeloving · 1 month
Text
a concept I've been rotating in my head for a really long time now is an AU where the entire Justice League is yandere... with multiverse stuff, because I'm still me <3
They have some sort of machine in the Watchtower that can be used to contact and monitor other universes and even open portals, they've been in contact with a bunch of other Justice Leagues and help each other out in case of extreme emergencies.
However, they all spend a lot of time at the machine doing things unrelated to what it's supposed to be used for. They each watch a different civilian in a different universe, are basically obsessed with them, you could even say they're stalking them... They all try to do this secretly, as they're aware that this isn't exactly behavior that's seen as normal and healthy (and morally sound). Some of them are more successful at hiding it than others.
I imagine Batman would be the first to connect the dots that they're all obsessed with someone, gather evidence of everyone doing this, call everyone to a meeting and confront them with said evidence, only to then reveal that he's been doing the same thing...
And then he suggests bringing their obsessions here, as this behavior has caused them all to be distracted and get worse at their Justice League business, but if their darlings were here, they would no longer have to worry if they were safe or not! Additionally, as they're all from different universes, nobody would think to accuse the Justice League of this universe to be responsible for the kidnappings, nobody would be able to even connect the dots that the kidnappings are related! Batman tries to make it seem like he's suggesting this because he's worried about their performance, and not because he wants to get his darling closer to him, close enough to finally touch.
Everyone eagerly agrees, of course (after getting over the embarrassment of "Oh shit, Batman saw me stalking someone"). After some preparations, like choosing and remodeling rooms so the objects of their affections will hopefully feel comfortable being kept there (well, as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances), they all work together to discreetly relocate all of their darlings from their original universes to their new home, the Watchtower in this universe.
Each darling gets their own room (that they share with their yandere, of course), but there's also rooms that are accessible to all of them, like a living room, a kitchen, etc, so they don't have to be alone when their yandere is out on patrol.
Everyone in the League tries to justify it to themselves by repeating how they're helping so many people, they've never asked for anything in return, they deserve this, but subconsciously they're all aware that what they're doing is not ok, they just don't care enough about that to stop. It's too late for that now anyways, their darlings are already here, they can't just return them!
I want to write something about what it's like to be the darling of the different members of the league at some point (and about the darlings escaping], but that might take a while, we'll see. Feel free to suggest Justice League members I should include though, I haven't quite decided about who exactly I want to be involved in this AU (other than the obvious Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. and probably Flash)
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youresodarkbabe · 1 month
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down on all fours (90s au rockstar a. turner x reader)
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smut.
warnings: overstimulation, praise, degradation (yes, both of them), aly has dacryphilia <3, dom!al, spit :)
word count: 2.1k
everyone thank @psychedelicrocker for telling me to write this instead of f1 alex again, also it's not v obviously 90s au whoopsies
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
alex was fucked.
he had been trying to write one simple song for hours now, and nothing seemed to stick. either a lyric would be too complex for the tune or he'd dumb it down too much. there really was no in between.
in his defense, though, he was freshly free from the harsh confines of a world tour and had lost all semblance of sanity.
he kept pacing around his office until he realized something. through all of the fans and drugs and groupies, he remembered one thing that was a constant.
you.
you met alex at the new jersey show he did with his band and he was intrigued, to say the least. he brought you backstage and had his way with you, sure, but he wanted more. he needed it, or rather, you.
he got you tickets to their next show and told you to come if you could, and you did. you thoroughly enjoyed the show, just as much as you enjoyed the way he destroyed your cunt before it and the way he fucked you til you cried after. the cycle repeated, they'd finish a show, he'd give you tickets to the next one.
the boys hadn't really tried forming connections with the girls they took back to their hotel rooms because to them, it was just a one time thing, they were high and their girl of the night would be starstruck and it was a fun way to unwind post-show. alex had the same mindset for years. until you. you ruined him completely. as much as he adored tearing you apart with his cock, he obsessed over the way you'd laugh breathlessly after a good fuck. he knew he was gone the moment you kissed him, the way your lips felt against his— soft, gentle, caring— it changed him.
the feelings alex had towards you could be described in many ways. an obsession, a need, a want, a love.
he couldn't care less. as long as he had you.
he crumpled up the messy, inked sheet of paper in his hand and tosses it into the trash and runs over to his untouched suitcase and digs through it until he finds the note you gave him at the last show he'd perform before moving to the european leg of the tour. the note had your phone number along with your address and the words 'don't forget me' written with a heart.
he realizes that you only lived a few minutes down the road. he decides to take the risk and punches your number into his landline and holds the receiver up to his ear. you take your time to pick up, but he let it go, it was half past two anyways.
"um, hello?" your voice called out, almost instantly making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his cock harden.
"hey, doll. been missin' you. been missin' your cunt, to be real specific. come over, i need my muse back." his voice is as sharp as it had always been, hearing it sending you into a frenzy. you were well and truly speechless, and he knew.
"i'll see you here, bunny."
you were still half asleep but the familiar warmth of alex's voice woke you up and you instantly got on your feet and began running around your room, scrambling around for anything to make yourself look more presentable for alex.
you quickly try fixing the mess that your hair was and apply a quick swipe of the red lipstick of yours that alex adored so much.
you threw on the first things you could find and decided you'd rather walk to his instead of driving, because all the thoughts you were thinking would not lead to a safe drive.
you showed up wearing his band's shirt and a leather jacket with spikes around the neck that almost resembled a collar.
he has to take a second to take all of you in.
he pulls you in by your waist and shuts the door behind you and gives your lips a quick peck.
"i've missed you, doll." he murmurs against your lips, "you always were my favourite from the lot."
he kisses you again, deeper this time, less sweetness and more desperation. teeth clashed, his slight stubble scratching your face, adding to the stimulation and making you hum into the kiss.
alex slips his hands from your waist to your ass, cupping the flesh and massaging it, also pushing your hips into his waist and grinding his cock into you. he pulls away, breathless.
"you know the drill. everythin' off, except that jacket. i expect you on all fours by the time i get to my room."
you open your mouth to retort but decide against it and tiptoe past him and run up to his bedroom. you get undressed and forget to put the jacket back on.
alex, still downstairs, fixed himself a drink and almost finished half of it before he was upstairs. his cock throbbing at the sight.
you were on all fours on his cozy, pristine bed, your back arched so perfectly.
"where's the jacket, doll?"
"'m sorry, al, i forgot."
alex discards his clothes slowly, leaving himself in his boxers. he crawls onto the bed and kneels in between your legs, his hands running up and down your back, pressing it into more of an arch.
"it's alright, angel," he presses a kiss to your soaked pussy from behind, "next time, hm?"
you grind against his face, trying to tell him what you need without irritating him. you hear him swear at himself before his tongue delves into your core, lapping at anything he can get. his fingers come to your front and play with your clit as he devours your dripping cunt. you feel that knot in your stomach threatening to snap as he pulls away, whining at him stopping so suddenly.
"al, please, i'm good, i need you, please—"
you moan excessively loudly when he pushes two fingers into your cunt with no prior warning, feeling your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and hitting every spot you needed him to get to.
"what did i tell you about doubting me, sweet girl?", he asks sweetly as he spreads his fingers as far apart as he can, watching your hole gape as you scream out his name.
"never doubt you, al, never ever doubting you," you trail off as he continues his relentless movements.
alex suddenly stops all his movements, taking his hands away from you, licking his fingers clean.
"taste as good as you did the first time, doll, fuck, you're takin' me back."
alex's mind flickered back to tour, how despite you both considering your interactions as a rockstar and one of his groupies, there was something different. it wasn't just sex, at least, not to him. he constantly fantasized about taking you out, buying you anything you ever wanted and more, treating you the way you deserved.
but he wasn't sure if he deserved you at all.
he saw himself as a pathetic excuse of a man who thrives on the validation of strangers and crumbles with the slightest criticism, but that also led to him imagining how you'd comfort him in these moments of devastation.
but that wasn't important to him now, he couldn't care less.
"you ready?", he asks, finally freeing his cock, pumping it slightly while watching his pre-cum spill onto your ass and then aligning it with your aching pussy, running his tip through your folds.
"mm, yes, please, fuck—"
alex slides into you before you can finish speaking, your words turning into a choked moan. alex doesn't even hesitate and begins thrusting as fast as he can, jaw hanging open as your cunt squeezes him. his writer's block disappears, everything does. you're all he saw at that point and he didn't mind it at all.
you almost scream his name as he fucks into you with no hesitation, going as fast as he can.
"just as good as i remembered baby, god," alex groans as he runs his hands up your sides, grabbing onto your hair and tugging it so he has your back pressed against his chest. you actually scream this time, the stinging feeling of his cock stretching your cunt and the pure euphoria of the act being almost too much to handle. you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he keeps fucking into you, one of his hands slipping to your clit, playing with it as he littered your neck with kisses.
"takin' me like a champ, doll, so so good. perfect lil toy, aren't you? fuckin' soaked too."
his fervent thrusts get slower and sloppier as you squeeze around him. "fuck, al, 'm gonna cum, please," you beg mindlessly as he brings his other hand up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly as he nips at a spot under your ear.
"hm, not yet."
you whine in response, your moans getting louder and louder by the second.
"good girl, keep waiting for me, perfect lil slut," alex mutters as he slows down slightly, leaving small kisses of appreciation on your cheek as tears well in your eyes. he notices this and you can feel him twitch inside you as you tighten around him once more, unable to hold back any longer.
you scream out his name as your back arches against his chest, one of your hands flying to grasp at the back of his hair, pulling as you shake and moan until your voice is completely hoarse.
alex stills after you stop shaking and gives you a few seconds to compose yourself.
"you enjoy that? filthy fuckin' whore."
he pulls out of you roughly and flips you onto your back, almost instantly pushing his cock back into your sore cunt.
tears stream down your face as he bottoms out, you're desperate for him to stop and give your ruined pussy a break but at the same time, you can't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get him even closer. you dig your nails into alex's back as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sting of your nails scratching along his back making him hiss and go even faster.
alex's hands push your legs even further apart and he lifts them up onto his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the way he could see the outline of his cock filling you up.
"fuck, doll, you're gonna let me fill you up, aren't you? you gonna take it for me, baby?"
alex moves your hair out of your face as you nod pathetically, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he dips his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and slows his thrusts to synchronize with tongue swirling around it, humming softly. he pulls off and latches onto your neck, his teeth clamping down slightly as he picks up his pace again, making you see stars as he fucks his cum as deep into you as possible.
alex collapses onto your chest, breathing heavily. he waits for a while before pulling out and looking at your ruined cunt, smiling as he sees the mixture of your cum and his seeping out of you.
"perfect, bunny, so gorgeous."
two of his fingers circle your aching hole once more and he pushes them into you until they only part of them he can see are his knuckles. he scissors his fingers and spits directly into you, pulling his fingers back out only to scoop up everything and push it back into you, he keeps playing with you like this until he's satisfied enough. he pulls his fingers out and taps on your lips with them and you open your mouth, sucking on them until they're clean.
"good girl, you did so well for me tonight."
he presses a gentle kiss to the space between your tits and moves upwards, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek and finally kissing your lips.
kissing you feels liberating to him, it doesn't feel forced or purely driven by his need to fuck you. but there is something wrong.
"we can't keep doing this."
alex rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as he spoke.
"we need to do this the right way, doll. i wanna take you out, do all that shit. let me have you, princess, please."
you open your mouth to respond but your voice barely comes out which makes you him laugh as you hide your face in his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your stomach as the laughter dies out and the silence takes over the room, alex doesn't feel awkward the way he normally would and his heart only feels lighter as he sees you nod with that smile he'd grown to adore.
"can't fuckin' wait."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
this one's been in the drafts for ages im ngl
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gawkingatyourface · 2 months
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Sweetest Tail | Preview
summary: A new recruit, Sas joined the Hazbin Hotel after the extermination which made Charlie so happy that she was jumping with joy. This new recruit took the whole crew to their only family that was outside of Pentagram City. Not realizing what they were getting into or more like whom they'll meet.
pairing: Lucifer x reader , Alastor x reader , Azrael x reader
warnings: angst, swearing, violence
notes: hi guys! this is my side blog for Hazbin Hotel stories hehe I've been so obsessed with the show as well as the songs. Just everything about it, pulled me in lol anyway, this is just a little preview of a story I'm working on. Hope you guys like it! Let me know if it's good or not hehe
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"Are we almost there toots? We've been walking for who knows how long?!" Angel complained as Husk chuckled beside them.
"We are. Just a few more." The new recruit named Sas said back as he looked around to see a familiar building.
Well the only building in the middle of no where.
Everyone looked at the building before looking at Sas with curious and judgmental looks.
He turned back at them and rolled his eyes.
"It might look bad from the outside but inside it's way better. Haven't you guys ever heard of not judging a book from its cover."
"Don't read books."
"Nope."
"What's a book?"
Sas raised an eyebrow at them and shook his head.
"Come on. She's waiting for us."
That caught Charlie's attention.
"She? Are we here for another recruit?"
Sas shook his head.
"I don't think she wants to redeem herself to heaven. She hates heaven for a reason that I can't tell you."
"Oh..."
That made Charlier sad as Vaggie comforted her.
"She's also my big sister so flirting is off limits." He said towards Angel whom just laughed and stick their tongue out at him.
"Well, he's got a point." Husk commented which Angel glared at him.
Alastor was quiet as he had never heard of this place. He eyed the place with suspicious as he kept silent. He even glanced to see Lucifer even curious about this place. He figured that he didn't know this place as well.
The King of Hell didn't know of this place, how odd.
Sas stood in front of the door and glanced at everyone for a second before he opened the door to reveal a well, styled place.
A café.
Multiple types of demons were chatting away their lives, not caring whom had came in.
Everyone was astonished at how well designed this place was. It was old fashioned. With paintings and sculptures all around the area. There was a small bar on the right side of the place. On the far left corner, there was a small stage that someone was performing with a piano which gave the whole place the old times vibes.
Alastor really liked it. It reminded him back when he was a human.
Charlie was amazed at how everyone was so chill and collected.
No bloodshed. No violence.
Just calm and enjoyment.
Vaggie also liked at how calm the environment was. She could breathe in peace and not worry about protecting Charlie and the rest.
Angel thought the place was cool and stuff but their eyes were definitely on the bar and the variety of drinks they had.
Even Husk was astonished at the bar choices.
Niffty was on Alastor' shoulder before dropping to the ground. Her expressions about the place was hilarious. She eyed the whole place like a little girl in a field trip. So excited to explore the whole place for roaches.
"This place is amazing! Where are the roaches?!"
Sas managed to grab her before she ran all over the place and caused a rukus.
"Calm down Niffty. I'll let my sister know first for you to find the roaches."
"Yay! Where is she?! I need to kill them roaches!"
Sas shook his head before he handed Niffty to Angel and made his way to the bar.
Lucifer stood beside Charlie as he was amazed at the place interior design. It felt homey. So comfy and relaxing. It somewhat warmed his heart.
Sas nodded at the bartender and went back to the group.
"She'll be here in a bit. While we wait, let's go sit and get some drinks."
"Whoo! Finally!" Angel said as they all went to a table on the far end of the place.
"So what's this sister of yours like Sas?" Charlie asked as she sat beside Vaggie.
"Yeah, you make her sound so mysterious."
"As long as she doesn't kill us."
Before Sas could say anything, a angelic voice was heard.
"I don't think killing my little brother's friends would do me any good."
Everyone turned around to see a rather exquisite creature in front of them. Aside from Sas that looked at her with a big smile and teary eyes.
Standing in front of them was [Y/N], a nine tailed fox that was wearing a rather comfy dress with rested above her knees. Her eyes staring at each face with curiosity and interest.
Just like they were all looking at her with interest especially two of them.
Lucifer and Alastor.
They couldn't keep their eyes off of her. It was like she was hypnotizing them with just her eyes.
"[Y/N]!"
Sas yelled out as he got up and ran towards her; hugging her so tight.
She giggled at his excitement as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. She surely did miss him.
"Well, is it just me or you've gotten handsomer since the last time I saw you? Was it a year ago or so?"
Sas nodded as he hugged her tighter. He had missed her so much.
She smiled down at him as she stroked his hair with care and loving.
Charlie looked at her with big, sparkling eyes especially at the sigh of her nine tails. She had never seen anyone with so many tails. They looked so amazing.
"Her tails are gorgeous." She whispered to Vaggie whom nodded at her in agreement.
"You must be Charlie."
Charlie froze as she noticed that she had been staring too long at her tails that she didn't realize that she just spoke to her. She quickly got up and bowed at her.
"Yes I am!"
[Y/N]'s eyes widen before giggled at how adorable Charlie was acting.
"There's no need to bow Charlie. After all, you are the Princess of Hell. It's an honor for you to visit my place." [Y/N] said with grace as she slightly bowed since Sas was still hugging her.
"Well, Sas wanted us to meet you. He said that he really missed you and I wanted to have a conversation with you as well."
That caught [Y/N]'s attention.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all as well and what would you like to discuss with me?"
She patted Sas head for him to let her go as they both went to sit down. She sat on the empty chair between Lucifer and Alastor which Sas didn't like at all. He pouted as he sat beside Angel.
Lucifer gasped a bit as he glanced to see [Y/N] up close which made her even more beautiful in his eyes. The way she carried herself was something that attracted him to her but his face turned to a glare as he noticed the Radio Demon looking at her as well.
Alastor kept his eyes on her with a big smile on his face. Yet, this smile was different from his usual one. It was softer, like he had fallen in love at first sight yet he denied it. He had a plan and goal to get his soul back. That was all he needed. He didn't have time to fall for someone like her. There's no way.
But he couldn't help but keep his eyes on her, watching her every move especially her tails.
They looked so soft. He had the urge to touch them. He even had the idea that if she lets him touch her, he'd gladly let her touch his. His eyes widen at the realization at what he was thinking as he glanced away from her, not wanting anyone to notice his infatuation with her.
But one did.
And they weren't happy at all.
The King of Hell had been glaring at the Radio Demon. Alastor couldn't help but smirk back at him as if it was a competition which they both decided that it was.
"Well, it's mostly about my dream to help my people. I'm sure Sas has told you about the Hazbin Hotel."
[Y/N] nodded.
"Well, it's a hotel for sinners to redeem themselves so they can have a better life and possibly go to Heaven."
As Charlie went on about her dream and the improvement that everyone has been doing; [Y/N] was lost in thought about her idea. It did seem like a good idea but knowing how Heaven is especially Adam and Sera; it wasn't gonna happen.
Everyone wanted to go up to Heaven because of the paradise yet for some it wasn't worth it.
It was quiet for a bit until [Y/N] felt a spark from someone touching her hand-well more like both her hands which got her out of her mind and blinked several times to bring her back.
"[Y/N], you alright?"
Before she could say anything, she glanced to see that Lucifer and Alastor were the ones that awoken her. She gave them a small smile but that quickly disappeared as she felt a presence that she hadn't felt in a while.
A long time.
She knew that Lucifer was sitting next to her whom couldn't take his eyes off her along with the wide smiled guy that was sitting next to him.
No this was someone else.
Someone that she's been trying to hide from.
Her eyes widen at the realization as she quickly got up which got everyone's attention.
"You all need to-"
A loud crash was heard at the front door which made everyone gasp as they all stood up.
[Y/N] looked at the bartender and gave him a signal which he returned as he took several of the customers to the back door for safety. Just from the explosion, she automatically knew who it was.
It was him. For sure.
"Sis, what's going on?" Sas said as he gripped onto her hand tightly, not knowing what was going on.
"I need you to take your friends out of here. Someone is here and they don't take lightly-"
"Oh sweet [Y/N]...are you here darling?" A mocking, sweet voice was heard.
One that she knew so well that she got chills all over her body.
Lucifer stood up as well, knowing that voice as well. He didn't believe that he'd be here. He couldn't be.
"There's no way that.."
"It is him."
She answered him, not even looking at him.
Lucifer's eyes widen as he looked at [Y/N] whom was looking straight ahead in a glare.
"How is that...why is he even here?"
[Y/N] kept silent as the cloud of dust started to disappear to reveal the person that they were talking about.
"My sweet [Y/N], oh how I've missed you."
The voice got deeper as the view got clearer.
"Dad, what is going on? Who is that?"
Lucifer stood beside [Y/N] as he couldn't answer Charlie, he was too shocked at whom was in front of him.
"Oh my, we have some company. How fun. Guess this will make my work even easier." The figure revealed to be Azrael, the Angel of Death.
"Azrael."
Hearing her say his name made his smile wider as he took steps closer to her.
"How lovely your voice sounds when you say my name, wifey."
Everyone was shocked.
WIFEY?!
...
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guillotinebypierre · 6 months
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Ryujin POV
Confliction.
Regret.
Pleasure.
If I was to try and describe what I was feeling, what I have been feeling every since this little affair started, this is what I'd choose. It is as if I had these cartoony angel and devil figures on my shoulders, criticising my every move and trying to sway me into rethinking my every step. On one side I knew what I wanted, I knew I wanted to stay loyal to my childhood sweetheart, leave all this idol bullshit behind and live somewhere quiet, have a nice and relaxed life but I knew it wasn't what I needed. I needed to be an idol, I needed to live this larger than life lifestyle, touring the world, singing and dancing and performing to my hearts desire day in day out. I knew I wanted [redacted] but I needed Y/n.
Nobody touched me like this. He was like a drug coursing through my veins, an unhealthy obsession, he was a constant high in my life, the personification of dopamine. He was the human equivalent of what I felt whenever I performed, he was my own private idol lifestyle, he was someone so unapologetically removed from anything related to the industry that it made me mad. He was an anchor, a way of ridding my stress, the build up of multiple weeks of training until I literally couldn't, the person who took care of me when I needed it.
He wasn't what I wanted, at least not originally, or maybe he was and I'm just delusional and trying to convince nobody but myself, but he is what I need.
This night started as they always do, with a simple phone call. Phone calls at two in the morning, normally not something anyone would want, but for us it was different. The past few months were getting to me, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. But then again, after all these years of dealing with toxic bosses, annoying netizens who sit in their room the whole day and think they have the right to comment on anything and everything, I've learned how to push these things down and ignore them until I couldn't. The last two comebacks didn't go as planned. They still did well on the market, but internationally, people said some pretty messed up things. We also have a tour coming up, which meant that training was pushed to a max, no matter if we could handle it or not.
Y/n told me once that pressure was a privilege, or at least that's the thing I could make out after he fucked my brains out, rendering most of my senses useless for the rest of the night. He was incredibly understanding, I knew he had to have made some harsh experiences in his past, but I never pushed further. Even though I'd love to know more about him, about how he thinks, what he thinks, I couldn't. And that was a good thing. He took care of my needs, I took care of his, there was no need for feelings. Or thats what I keep telling myself. I know I don't- no I shouldn't want him. But I needed him.
Thats the second reason I called him tonight. Tonight my sleep was particularly bad. My mind clouded with the past failures and bad decisions I made, the promise I made to my childhood crush, that we'd stay in touch and eventually date, in my mind as I cursed myself to hell and back for falling for someone else. My bed felt empty, my heart felt empty. But my mind was crowded, full of his ridiculously handsome face. That smug grin that I could only get rid of by sitting on it, his stupidly perfect teeth that he used to tease my nipples, his incredibly muscular body that I stared at a bit too long, leading to his annoying teasing. His strong arms that held me close at all times, offering me comfort I never really got with anyone else.
I tried replacing him, I really tried, but it was like anyone and everyone was a lesser version of him, a cheap replacement, it was like going back down to economy after flying first class for the first time. They weren't what I needed, they were cheap replacements, I wanted to stop thinking about him, relying on him, but those attempts were futile in the end. I needed him.
My phone was completely charged and absent of any notifications. It was two in the morning, after all. My schedules for tomorrow were moved to another day, leaving me with a day of relaxing, but I knew I couldn't, not until I quenched this undying thirst for that stupid son of a bitch and his magical touch. It was like whenever I saw him I lost all motor function, like he had done a spell on me. If he wanted to, I'd be on the floor for him, doing things I'd never do for anyone else. And what makes it worse is that he knew what effect he had on me. What made it worse was that I've seen the way my members look at him, the way other idols look at him.
He works at a popular restaurant among the rich and famous of Seoul, a very luxurious one at that, even for rich people standards. One that offered plenty of privacy for all kinds of famous people. I've seen the way my fellow idols tipped him, the way they'd touch him and make advances. It irked me, especially because he went along with it every time, accepting the small pieces of paper with their numbers they'd slip him. God knows how many of my colleagues he has fucked by now.
I find myself questioning if Karina was able to make him cum like I did. If my unnies from Twice were able to take him as well as I did. If those aunties from Girl's Generation were even able to keep up with him. Like seriously, Taeyeon was over a decade older than him, theres no way he could go all out with her. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about how these whores would be moaning my man's name, but then I realised, he wasn't my man. And that's on me, I suppose. After all a relationship is what he wanted, but it wasn't what I needed. Or at least that's what I thought back then when he asked me. I proposed the idea of staying as fuck buddies, the casual booty call, but seeing how he interacted with women, most of which I'd fuck myself in a heartbeat, made the devil on my shoulder grow rigid and put some bad ideas in my mind.
He spoke to the phone, calling my name, leading me to question whether he had just picked up or if I had left him to talk to himself for god knows how long.
"Noona it's two in the morning, what do you want?", he asked in a raspy, deep voice that made my legs quiver.
"I want you.", I replied as I moved my fingers into my slightly wet panties subconsciously.
"Noona didn't we just fuck yesterday-"
"I don't care I just want you in me."
"But what about your members? Last time Yuna and Yeji almost broke your door in while complaining about the noise."
"We don't have any schedule tomorrow and they're heavy sleepers, they only woke up last time because we started before they fell asleep"
"..."
"Fine I'll see you in ten minutes"
"You'll be here in five or I won't give you any pussy for the rest of the year."
"I'll see you in five minutes."
He arrived quicker then he promised, probably due to the lack of cars, and thereby lack of traffic, outside at this time. We sneakily made our way into my room, trying to not alert anyone, before closing the door behind us and starting immediately. I smashed my lips against his as the familiar taste of his coconut flavoured lip balm made its way into my mouth, his minty fresh breath following soon as his hands roamed around my body. His lips moved in sync with mine, as if he was trying to take the friction from them. His large hands palmed my ass as he tried to finger my asshole, only to be stopped by a wall of an pink, crystal shaped buttplug.
"I've been wanting to try something new", I shyly said as his penetrating gaze landed on my face, looking me into my eyes.
"I can tell", he replied before smirking and capturing my lips again.
We moved backwards towards my bed as I fell back and layed there. My body sprawled out as he took in every bit of skin that I was showing. I felt a bit judged by his look, my body heating up and cheeks forming a small blush as I looked everywhere but his face. My mind, however, went numb as soon as I felt the all too familiar feeling of his hot tongue pressing against my center. His wet muscle expertly moved around, licking and slurping my juiced while his thumb circled around my clit and his fingers curled inside of my pussy. My eyes rolled back as I felt the first of presumably many orgasms approach me. Nobody knew how to touch me like this. I looked down at him, his gaze meeting mine as he stared into my eyes while eating me out, his intense look intensifying the pleasure, pushing me over the edge as my hands grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pressed his mouth harder against my body. I squirted onto his face, the warm and sticky liquid drenching his entire upper body as he simply opened his mouth and trues catching as much of my juices in his mouth as possible.
Breathing became hard, my vision became blurry as I felt the devil on my shoulder overpowering the angel, putting bad thoughts into my head, telling me to tell my childhood friend to fuck off and let me live my life. Y/n wasn't like anyone else. Everyone was a 'want' but he was a need. And he continued proving that to me every single time we spent time together.
Y/n POV
I looked at Ryujin, her flushed face being lit so beautifully by the moonlight. A cool breeze ran through her room, subconsciously making me shudder as the thought of a possible relationship with her shook me to my core. I was hurt by being turned down, hell who wouldn't be hurt by that, but I guess I wasn't what she wanted.
My life had been a rollercoaster of experiences. When I finished studying culinary arts I didn't expect myself to be working for celebrities all the time, nor did I expect to work in South Korea in the first place. The job was good, though. It paid well, the tips I received were more than friendly and the company was nice. I never thought that I'd become some kind of player but after Ryujin turned me down I sought love in other places, in other people. Deep down I knew there was no place for Ryujin in my heart, at least not anymore. That place belonged to Jimin, or Momo and Mina, or Taeyeon depending on the night, but I just couldn't see myself in a scenario where Ryujin wasn't close by.
The idea of telling her that I didn't want to be 'just' her booty call and borderline sex toy anymore crossed my mind every so often, but that thought was thrown out the window again every time I saw her like this, naked, heavy breathing, flustered and soft under my touch.
When I was woken up from that call I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I should've just ignored it and continued sleeping, coming up with literally any excuse as to why I didn't pick up. But my heart didn't allow that. Much like staying away from sweets during a diet, like quitting smoking or drinking after doing it for so long, I wasn't able to. I craved for her sweetness, I desired the dopamine that was synthesised every single time I saw her smile, stroked her hair while she laid on my chest and vented about the stress she had to suffer from. I was an addict and Ryujin was my drug.
I slowly stood up from my kneeling position, the corners of my mouth dripping with her cum as I licked it clean as well as I could. I ditched my shirt, throwing it somewhere in the corner of Ryujin's room, where it would probably would stay as she was keen to steal my stuff. The light wind, courtesy of the open windows passed by my back, making the hairs on my arm stand up. Although the distant noises of the city could be heard, the room was quiet. Heavy breathing was the only thing anyone could register as Ryujin tried calming herself from her high. In moments like these the devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear, telling me that I should try seducing Ryujin into a relationship, but I knew better, I knew not to hurt myself with ridiculous expectations and delusional ideas.
My brain tried figuring out whether or not any of her members heard her scream just now, as the sudden sounds of metal clashing against each other ripped me out of my train of thought. I looked down and saw a dazed Ryujin fighting my belt for access into my underwear, her senses still a bit cloudy from her high just mere moments ago. A few seconds later, she managed to unbuckle it and in one swift motion threw my pants and boxers onto the ground, my large member smacking her in the face as I kicked both pieces of clothing left on my body away.
According to her, I was the largest she had ever seen. Ryujin never told me, but I knew she had other partners. It was obvious that we both knew that we weren't meant for each other, we both knew falling for each other would be a mistake, but something pulled us together. I always cursed at god for making me feel these one sided, unreciprocated feelings for her, as I thought this was a cruel, sick prank pulled by the one above us as a way of punishing me for not going to church that often anymore but whether I liked it or not, it didn't change anything.
Ryujin, once again took me out of my mental dilemma as she started stroking my dick, her fingers brushing against the tip, spreading my precum around the member, using it as lubricant. She looked up at me, a small blush still on her cheeks while her mouth curved into a smirk, followed by a lip bite. Her left hand soon joined in pleasuring me as she started fondling my balls before, finally, taking my cock into her mouth.
Her throat felt tight, wet and hot. Her tongue brushed across my base, stopping only to lick the tip as she played with the slit on my head. Her throat muscles worked around my shaft as her head continued going down inch by inch, desperate to throat everything and reach the base. I grabbed her hair, making a makeshift pony tail as to keep the hair out of her face. The formerly silent room was now filled with wet slurping noises and gagging sounds as she impaled her face on my crotch.
I closed my eyes in pleasure as my hips started moving on their own, fucking into Ryujin's throat, reaching as deep as she could take, before I slowly backed up and allowed her to breathe. Ryujin gasped for air, her saliva connecting her lips with my dick in a long string of spit. Her chin was soaked, spit and precum dripping down it and onto her sheets. Ryujin practically pulled me into her as she formed a tight vacuum around my dick, blowing bubbles at the tip before going back down and deep throating as much as she could fit.
The oral pleasure continued for a while, my climax nowhere near close but making itself known before I pulled myself out of her and told her to lay down with her legs spread. Ryujin looked me in the eyes hungrily, for the first time this night without blushing at the mere sight of me, indicating that she had reached the 'zone', a state in which one is focused on nothing but the task at hand. Her body was godly, something straight out of a painting, often making me question whether or not she was real, a feeling I felt every time I saw an idol up close.
Her pussy was soaked, a small bush visible, wet from a mixture of her arousal and my own saliva from before. Her nipples were erect, her chest rising and falling as she looked at me in anticipation. Her hair clung to her forehead as sweat glistened on her body.
"Are you going to stare at me the whole time or will you start fucking me soon?", she asked annoyed.
I rolled my eyes at her antics. I knew she didn't mean that. She had told me before that she appreciated it greatly how obviously I thought she was gorgeous. Ryujin had a hard time in the beginning of her career due to the ridiculous beauty standards in that field and the entitled and obnoxious netizens. She had always looked great, and I admired her ever since she debuted and we got to know each other, but she still got harassed online because of her looks. I remember last year, in the night of their 'Loco' release, she called me crying, in fear of what people would say about her. To me, that night will always stay close to my heart. We didn't have sex that night. I didn't want to. It felt wrong, like I was abusing her vulnerability. I think that that night changed everything about us.
I leaned down, kissing her as I knew this was the only way of shutting her up. My hands rubbed her inner thighs, kneading the soft flesh before aligning my cock and pushing inside her. Her pussy stretched around my member, her eyes rolling back as her body became even more flushed than it was before. Her chest started rising and falling faster as she adapted to the new feeling. Ryujin wrapped her legs around my torso and her hands around my neck as I felt her lips kissing and sucking my neck and collarbone. I thrusted into her, reaching as deep as I could inside her pussy as her moans grew louder and louder, to the point where, no matter how heavy of a sleeper her members were, I'm sure they'd wake up.
The sounds of cars honking and drunk adults shouting was now entirely blended out as Ryujin's room filled with mewls and groans of our names, the former being much louder than the ladder. Skin slapped against each other, wet squelching noises being produced as my dick slid in and out of her soaked womanhood, her nails digging into my back as she searched for anything to hold on to. Ryujin threw her head back into the pillows to the point where it looked like she was trying to disappear inside them. Her legs shook before becoming jelly as her mouth hung open and her screams grew louder. She tightened her grip around me as her walls contracted around my cock, milking me dry another orgasm hit her.
With one last cry she pushed my head into her shoulder and moaned my name into my ear as her juices sprayed all over my torso and the sheets of her bed. My hips never stopped moving as I felt my own high coming soon. I burrier myself deep as I felt her tap my shoulder, indicating that I should pull out. My thrusts grew sloppy and less consistent as the thought of leaving this comforting warmth broke through my mind like a sledgehammer, before I ultimately pulled out and stroked myself for the last few seconds, erupting in a sea of semen, coating Ryujin's toned stomach, her breasts and nipples and her face.
I fell back onto my ass as I tried catching my breath, sweat dripping down my forehead as I felt a pair of eyes on my frame.
3rd Person POV
Ryujin slowly stood up, her legs having little to no energy left in them as she scooped up the cum from her body and put it into her mouth. Her breathing was still heavy, uncontrolled, but as was her lust. Her needs weren't satisfied, her frustration with the situation she had put herself in wasn't gone and as weren't her feelings. Ryujin looked at Y/n, like a predator would look at its prey, even though their dynamic was more like predator and weaker predator, and slowly crawled towards him.
"You can still go, right?"
"You did say you wanted to try something new", he responded as his arms wrapped around her body, playing with her the outside of the diamond shaped plug inside her asshole.
He slowly pulled at it, before pushing it back in, teasing her and making her anticipation rise. Every time she felt him pulling at her plug her breath hitched, yet he never fully committed to it until finally, with a satisfying *pop* she felt her puckered hole feel a lot less full.
She looked at Y/n as he examined the pink diamond shaped object in his hand before throwing it to the side and kissing Ryujin again, this time with much more vigor.
The pair fell back onto the bed, their hands exploring each others bodies for what felt like the fiftieth time this night. Y/n's lips traveled across her body, leaving marks in every area he knew she would hide on stage as Ryujin's breathy voice called out to him.
"Y-Y/n. There's a- mHm bottle of lube in the fIRST drawer AHH"
Y/n's left arm roamed around the drawer until finding the small bottle of neutral scented lube.
"Turn around", he told her, completely neglecting any kind of honorific towards his elder.
Ryunjin did as told without opening her mouth, pushing her head into her pillows, arching her back and putting her ass up, swaying it lightly as if she was teasing Y/n.
Y/n took in the view in front of him, her glistening pussy, dripping in arousal, the cum from before still on her lower stomach, her asshole clenching as if it was trying to suck him in. He leaned down, sticking his tongue out as he licked around her asshole making the hairs on Ryujin's body stand up from the new sensation. His hands spread her ass cheeks apart as he dove in, eating her out and lubricating with his saliva.
Ryujin's moans grew loader as the new sensation befell her, Y/n's tongue doing wonders on her as she pushed her head deeper into the pillow and her ass harder against Y/n's awaiting tongue.
After a few minutes of oral pleasure he stopped, the warm feeling of his wet tongue being replaced by cold lube which he spread around her asshole before taking two fingers and sliding them in, spreading it and stretching Ryujin's unused hole even more. He took a generous amount of the same lube and put it on his hard member, spreading it by giving it a few strokes before aligning it between her ass cheeks and slowly inserting himself.
The feeling was different to her other two holes. It was tighter, rougher and warmer. It was almost suffocating, as if it was quite literally sucking him in and keeping him there. Ryujin shuddered as she felt herself stuffed to a degree unknown to her up to that point. She bit the pillowcases as to not scream in pleasure, her knuckles turning white as she held onto the sheets tightly.
They stayed in that position for a while, Y/n giving his lover enough time to get adjusted to the feeling before slowly thrusting in and out of her. He threw his head back in pleasure as Ryujin's tight hole sucked him dry, using any kind of self control he had to not cum inside her immediately.
Y/n, not wanting to reach his climax first, decided to play unfairly. He grabbed Ryujin's hair, making her look up at him as he thrusted into her. He kissed her, her eyes being shut closely as pleasure overtook her. His other hand slapped her ass cheeks, altering between the two, leaving both of them red with his hand print on them. He soon switched tactics, letting Ryujin's head fall into her pillow and instead using one hand to stimulate her pussy. His fingers trailed around her labia, teasing her, before sticking them in, penetrating her from two ends at the same time. In the meantime, his thumb circled around her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
All of this stimulation soon culminated into her high, the biggest one for the night, as she screamed in a volume that surely had woken up at least one person, her pussy spraying what had to be the equivalent of a small waterfall of cum onto the now completely soaked through sheets under them. Her body collapsed and fell down onto the bed as her legs trembled and her eyes kept shut.
Y/n continued thrusting into her, now in a prone bone position. He was satisfied with his work and now allowed himself to cum. He continued thrusting, deep and hard, his member pulsating with each passing second before finally exploding in a wave of long, thick, hot and sticky spurts of sperm, painting and coating the entirety of Ryujin's insides white.
He held himself above her for a few seconds, unloading everything he had, before his arms gave up and he fell down next to her, his cock slick due to a mixture of their cum and the lube.
He was a mess, his hair completely all over the place, his body sticky with residue of Ryujin's cum and his sweat, his back full of marks caused by Ryujin's nails and his neck and chest full of hickeys.
Ryujin herself was even more of a mess. A pool of thick cum seeping out of her asshole and onto her thighs, her pussy and asscheeks red and beaten up, her body equally as sticky and sweaty and her chest full of hickeys.
The pair caught their breath as Ryujin used whatever strength was left inside her and made her way onto her lover's chest. The two stayed in that position for a while, not saying anything, just listening to each other's heartbeats.
Y/n POV
It was as if time had stopped. I looked at her sleeping figure and smiled to myself. It was a bittersweet feeling. My heart longed for something more than whatever we were having, but I knew it wasn't possible. I sighed as I stood up, quietly as to not wake her up. I put my clothes on in silence, going to her drawer and taking out a small piece of paper. I wrote a note on it, explaining where I'd gone to, and kissed her on her forehead, leaving afterwards. It was probably better that way.
Dear Ryujin,
I apologise for not staying the night, noona, but I have work in the morning and I'm sure you'd rather rest in an empty bed than one where I'd take up most of the space. I put as much as I could into the washing machine but you still need to change the sheets. I've been thinking about our situationship for a long time and I now know that I can't do this anymore. I can't just stay friends with benefits. It's not what I need, nor is it what I want. I apologise again for doing it this way, but I think it's the easiest and least painful way to do it. I will always hold you close to my heart and I will always be glad to cater to your and your group's needs, but I can't stand the idea of having you and still not having you, if you know what I mean.
Love always,
Y/n.
I sighed as I exited the room, closing the door slowly behind me.
"You know the two of you really need how to learn to be quiet.", a voice called out to me.
"Jesus, Yeji noona, you scared the shit out of me"
"YOU woke me up like three times. Seriously there's no way your dick is that good."
"Noona-"
"If not for Ryujin stealing you I'd have tried for myself but-"
"Yeji, me and Ryujin will not be seeing each other anymore.", I interrupted her.
"Oh-"
"I should get going. Sorry for waking you up, I hope you have a good night, though."
As I opened the door I felt a pair of arms wrap around my body. My heart dropped as I thought this was Ryujin but my nose told me it was someone else.
"If you want to talk about it, I'm always here to listen to you, Y/n", Yeji said in a small voice.
"Thank you noona, I really appreciate it."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not right now, thank you."
"Thats fine. Just remember, whenever you need someone, I'll always be here, with open arms and open legs-"
"Love you too, noona. Stay safe and have a good night. I'll see you sometime at the restaurant.", I said while going out the door.
I made my way to my car, walking across the parking lot quickly. It was a cool night, a light breeze but nothing too serious. I opened the door and just sat there, starring into space and thinking about nothing in particular. I felt something drop on my lap and realised that I had been crying. Silent tears rolled down my face as I realised my biggest fear had come true.
My relationship with Ryujin was no more.
A small buzz from my pocket took me out of my frozen state as I went to check the notification. It was just Yeji texting me once again that she felt sorry for whatever happened and that she'd be there to listen to me.
I replied to her and just as I was about to close my phone, another message popped up.
Taeyeon🤍
>hey Y/nn~ I don't know if you're still up, I don't even know why I'm up myself but the preparations for my concert have just finished and I was thinking about you before going to sleep ;)
>are you free this weekend? I'd love to have you at my concert, I could get you backstage if you wanted to.
>there will be a lot of my old colleagues and other idols but I still feel like I'll perform better with your support.
>I can also give you a private show afterwards if you want, you know as a thank you for all the tasty meals you've given me in your restaurant and my bedroom ;)
>let me know if you have time, I'd love to have you there~
'hey noona, i'm still awake, can't sleep tonight haha.i'd love to be there and i actually don't have anything planned for this weekend. it'd be an honour to be backstage and support you from up close, you know how much i love you and your music. i was actually thinking about meeting up tomorrow, do you have time or is your schedule still busy from preparations and last minute rehearsals?'<
Taeyeon🤍
>I'm a bit busy tomorrow but you know I can always make time for you, handsome~
>just swing by the SM building tomorrow around 7ish and I'll have my manager pick you up and drive you to my place.
>see you tomorrow~
This woman will be the death of me.
to be continued
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thedeathlysallows · 10 days
Text
Is It Over Now? (11)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon
Summary: And maybe it was ego's swinging
Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator. Simp!Aemond appears again (not that he really ever leaves lol). Smut, fingering, religion kink, not sub!Aemond but he does beg a bit, oral (f!receiving)
(We've reached the Alys Rivers arc and it'll probably take a few chapters to settle. Also, we've shifted to this song for the second half of the story.)
Tag list: @callsignwidow
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"You know how much I love you," Aemond whispers in your ear as the candles flicker out, plunging your bedchamber into darkness. His arms wrap around your waist and hold you in a vice grip against the hard edges of his body. "Enough with the punishment."
You can't help but scoff. "Punishment? Tell me, my dear husband, how are you the one being punished when I'm the one expected to sit back and watch my family be hunted into extinction?"
"I've apologized countless times for Lucerys."
"Yes, of course you have. All of you have, save for Aegon and that scheming snake of a man you call grandfather. All everyone does is apologize to me."
"What more do you need? What will end this?"
"Give me your other eye."
"What?"
Aemond looks at you, disbelief coloring his sharp features. You stare back, unblinking. Moments pass by in silence as the two of you take each other in. You aren't sure what exactly triggers it, but your lower lip quivers and tears spring to your eyes.
"I don't mean it. Not really. I don't know why I said it..." You choke out a sob and bury your face in his chest. Aemond's hand immediately goes to your hair as he comforts you.
He knew you didn't mean- you would never be so vicious- but the comment was still jarring nonetheless. Aemond knew you would never mean such a thing, but there's still a slight tremor in his hand as he pets you gently. He's worked so hard to get to this point, to have you in his arms, and he feels like he can see the end of it all before it's barely even begun.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." The tears won't stop no matter how hard you try.
A small flicker of hope flickers in Aemond's chest. "Could you be pregnant?"
"It hasn't been long enough."
"It's been two months at this point. We've both been performing our duties-"
"How clinical." You look up at him wryly, feeling uncertain of his reaction to your outburst. You really hadn't meant to say that to him. You were just so angry and then so desperately sad when you realized how hurtful you'd been.
Aemond smiles down at you indulgently, tilting your chin to press your lips to his. "Shall I be more romantic then?"
Your stomach churns violently in direct competition with the heat growing between your thighs. You love Aemond- at least you think you do- but you also love your mother and brothers. There's a part of you still lost to mourning. You've heard nothing from anyone, locked away inside your ivory tower in the Keep, only allowed news from Aemond's mouth directly. (Or Aegon's when he sends Aemond off some place or another, but even that's becoming less frequent as Aegon becomes more and more obsessed with being King.)
"You? Romantic? Maybe if the Conqueror himself returned." The joke comes easily. Joking with Aemond has always been easy. You can do that. You can tell jokes and make him smile because you like his smile, and because it's safer to distract him than fuck him.
You still keep your master plan in the back of your mind: let all of them think they've tamed you until you can find a way back to your mother's side. When you came up with your plan you didn't anticipate it would become harder and harder to pretend with each passing day. You didn't anticipate actually loving Aemond, nor did you anticipate Aemond's love for you being real.
It's terrifying to feel your grip slowly loosening.
Aemond's voice calls you back from your thoughts while he gently rolls you under him. "I can be romantic if that's what you need. I'll be anything you need. Just let me in."
"Aemond-"
"Please, don't fight me anymore. Stop pushing me away. I adore you, why can't you see that?" His fingers dig in to the fabric of your nightgown, pulling and tugging until it's over your head, discarded on the floor by the unlit fire place. Your skin feels like it's on fire as his gaze travels over your body, hands following each curve and dip.
"So pretty," he whispers adoringly.
"Don't. Please."
Aemond's eye flickers up to yours. He still keeps the patch on, neither one of you fully ready to embrace the consequences of the past when the present is so precarious. You swallow thickly, unable to look away as his hand creeps up to your breast. His fingers toy with the soft buds there, teasing your nipples until you're almost sore. A soft whine escapes you and you see Aemond's face darken.
"Don't what?" He finally says. "Don't worship you as the goddess you are?"
Aemond bends his head to kiss just under your breasts, reveling in the feel of your soft stomach as he drags his lips lower. If you were burning before, you're positively on fire now, desperate for whatever Aemond will do next. He reaches your thighs with a moan, nipping at the delicate skin there.
"Let me die on your altar," he says. "I'll do it happily, over and over."
Your fingertips thread through his silky hair and you pull his face to your cunt. Aemond breathes out a small laugh that sends a puff of warm air over your sensitive pussy. He wastes no time, diving between your folds like a starving man. His tongue is absolutely sinful as he licks you, working a magic you never would've expected from him.
"Aemond, yes, right there." You moan out the words, knowing how much he loves the praise. And you're more than happy to give it as his long fingers enter you, pumping in time with each lick he gives your clit.
"Tell me you love me," Aemond demands while he keeps thrusting and curling his fingers inside your cunt. "Tell me you're mine."
You nod, his words not fully registering, but you repeat them anyway. "I'm y-yours... l-love you... so much."
"Mmm, such a good girl. You've always been so, so good, haven't you?" Aemond's fingers brush against that most sensitive spot inside you and you arch your back off the bed, screaming his name like a litany of prayers over and over.
"Look at you. Haven't even put my cock in you and your already coming." He pulls you into a lazy kiss, all tongue and teeth and you don't mind at all. "I've always believed you're the Maiden come to save me."
Aemond buries his face in your neck, nipping and biting, leaving marks you know the whole court will see. "Will you save me? Absolve my sins?"
You sigh, fingernails digging into his back as you hook your legs over his waist. "Aemond...please, please, please."
"Forgive me, Maiden." Aemond pants the words into your ear, his hips jerking when your warm cunt drags across his cock. "Forgive me so I can worship you properly, please."
You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "I forgive you."
With a heady sigh he sinks into you, his cock stretching you out in the most exquisite way. You see stars behind your eye lids as he begins fucking you, pounding his cock deep inside your cunt. He's ruthless and desperate in his movements as he watches you come undone beneath him, the very image of Heaven.
"I love you," Aemond moans. "Ah, fuck, I love you..."
You whine desperately, completely at his mercy as he cums inside you and fills your cunt. You have the brief thought that maybe this time you are pregnant, but Aemond is there before you can pursue the thought further. He brushes the hair from your face and kisses your nose before laying down beside you and pulling you close.
"Aegon is sending me to Harrenhal in the morning. I asked to take you with me, but the Council convinced him it would be a mistake. I promise I'll return as soon as I'm able."
"Harrenhal..." You can see Harwin Strong's face in your mind's eye, so similar to that of your brothers'...
Aemond strokes your face worriedly. "Please don't lock yourself in this room while I'm gone."
But you can't promise anything.
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vampirepunks · 2 months
Text
I really love all the DS2 theories I've seen so far but one thing I'm picking up is a lot of people expecting Higgs to still be on the same trajectory/goal set as he was in the first game and y'know....... I don't think that's the case.
The overall theme of DS2 from what we've seen so far + Kojima's comments seems to be the concept of opposites, inverses, and dualities, as though it's saying, "take the entire idea and turn it inside out and upside down." It appears to challenge the viewer to subvert whatever expectation/understanding they have based on the first game. It's eternal recurrence as seen through a mirror. The first game was themed around blue and black, this one is red and white. Connection becomes disconnection. Hope becomes despair. Age becomes youth. Repetition becomes change.
Buckle up, I've got thoughts.
(This pattern of contrasts illustrates a theory I've had since DS1 based on Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra" and the three-stage journey of metamorphoses--camel -> lion -> child--required to become the overman, but that'll be a separate post. If you're already familiar with the book, just know that in this context DS1 would be the camel and thus DS2 encompasses the lion.)
So, in DS1, Higgs is a hyper-fatalist obsessed with extinction. It's easy to assume that hasn't changed, that he's still dedicated to Amelie and wants to end the world... Too easy, right? Has anything Kojima has written ever been that simple?
I raise you this: In the vein of eternal recurrence, Sam becomes Cliff and Higgs becomes Amelie/Bridget... but this is not a literal retelling, rather, a metaphorical one. A dark mirror to the stories we already know.
So if the theme is opposition, what's the opposite of extinction? Creation. What's the first thing we learn about Higgs in the DS2 trailers? He's a musician now. He sings and he plays guitar. And, arguably, music is the very essence and lifeblood of creation itself, one of the very first things mankind created when our species was in its infancy. Further, Higgs uses his own umbilical cord (yes, it's an umbilical cord), as a guitar jack, channeling his ties to life, death, and his own soul in his performance, highlighting that he has an intimate connection to this core act of creativity. More about that in this post.
Now, DS1 already has a lot of themes and motifs surrounding duality, most notably the concept of chirality: two things that are each other's opposite, two hands imperfectly overlapping, two objects that act as one another's mirror. Powerful things happen when they collide--anything ranging from drug interactions to voidouts to the very birth of the universe.
If I'm reading this right, Sam is set to become the chiral counterpart to his father's tragedy and Higgs is set to become the chiral counterpart to the extinction entity. The same narratives we know, recurring once more, but flipped to become something entirely new at the same time. A rope that becomes a stick and a stick that becomes a rope. Humanity will always need both; the stick is not evil for serving its purpose, nor is the rope inherently good for doing its job. "Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil."
I'm calling it now: Higgs is not serving Amelie, not seeking to bring her back, not trying to become her. He is rebelling against the idea of her, unshackling himself from the role she placed him in, taking back the autonomy he lost and acting to avenge the abandonment and manipulation he suffered. He's claiming her image as his own to make a mockery of what she represents, painting himself up to look like her decaying corpse, all in an effort to prove she no longer controls him, defiantly asserting, "The queen is dead... long live the king." And so, what is there left for him to do but throw himself into reckless acts of creation? Life from death. Extinction Entity? Cute. Try this on for size: Creation Entity.
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ghouljams · 8 months
Note
GHOUL I LOVE YOU omg you've been feeding me so well I don't deserve you. I've been obsessed with your demon au (frothing at the mouth, salivating, gripping into my bedsheets as I read all of it) and I had an idea. I was reading a fic, which I'll link down below don't worry, about ghost dying in combat and coming back to you in actual ghost form. How do you feel about the idea of ghost going to hell but they turn him into your demon? He promises he'll never leave you, goes on a mission and just...never returns. But Ghost is not only your lover, but he's a legend in hell and why would hell waste a good soldier? They send him back up to you........
You become the new war machine, your boots digging into still hot flesh as you march over the bodies that Ghost has torn down. You see him across the way, watching as he slaughters anything and everything that stands in his path. Ghost isn't fighting for the task force anymore, he's fighting for you. And heaven will burn before anything happens to what's his.
Sorry if this is kind of a rant but I have this horrible craving for angst and violence.
https://www.tumblr.com/ceilidho/727096787831341056/prompt-you-keep-seeing-apparitions-of-a-dead?source=share
OK ON GOD I AM IN LOVE WITH THAT FIC holy shit
Alright another real quick demon au for the Ghosty boy, not exactly what you said but... I think you'll like it
There are things that are meant to be seen, and then there are demons. Human eyes were never meant to look upon such wonders, such living machines, all perfectly curated musculature and instinct. You're lucky if you never catch a glimpse of one. Such beauty could drive a person mad. To see what humanity would never touch but always strive for would be a curse. One that would haunt and eat away at you until there was no choice but to give in to it, and hopefully become one of them.
You press your hands to your mouth, leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, unsteady from the way you bounce your leg. Nothing more they could do. That's what doctors always said on TV, you didn't think you'd actually hear it in real life.
"We just have to wait and see," They tell you, and you nod. You all nod, because you understand what those words mean. The 141 is always prepared for tragedy, never more so than in the long hours you spend waiting for Ghost to wake up. He's crammed so full of tubes and wires, the nurses rotating different syringes of medicine through his IVs, you hardly recognize him.
You take shifts. One of you in the room with him at all times, cramped in the uncomfortable hospital chair. All of you figuring he'll want a friendly face when he wakes up, and drawing up a schedule. Damn military training. Still, it's good. It means when you relieve Soap of his watch you know he's going to grab some sleep, the same way you know Gaz will be by when your shift ends in the wee hours of the morning.
You must doze off even with a nap under your belt, because when you wake up it's freezing in Ghost's hospital room. You check your watch, 03:00. The witching hour. Nothing good ever happens at three AM. You sigh and get up to ask the nursing station for a blanket, if you're cold you're sure Ghost is too. If he can even feel cold like this.
Something deeply wrong and horribly familiar grabs your hand.
You tense and turn. Ghost stares at you, his fingers tight around yours, your stomach drops and you rush to slam your hand on the call button. He's awake. He's awake and it's chaos. You spend the next few hours talking to doctors, watching nurses pull tubes out of Ghost's throat and perform tests on every patch of skin that isn't bandaged. You stand outside his room and talk to Price over the phone, make sure the rest of the team knows Ghost's back from the dead and passing everything with flying colors.
You don't mention what you don't want to say out loud, what you can't even put a name to. Something in his eyes, they're darker than they used to be. Not the color but the depth of them. Something in his voice is richer, something about the way he moves feels... more. The room is freezing and no one can get the temperature up.
You think someone will notice. When the rest of the 141 shows up to visiting hours you think one of them will see what you do. You hope. They don't. If they do, none of them mention it. The only difference is in the way Ghost keeps reaching for you, keeps taking your hand, pulling you to sit on the edge of his bed whenever you're close. Your relationship wasn't a secret, but he's never been one for PDA. Now you can hardly come within arms length without him touching you. Soap teases you for it, and Price is happy enough just having Ghost back not to mention it.
Gaz asks if you're alright when you excuse yourself from the room. The two of you speaking quietly by the vending machine. You pour out your fears to him and ask if he's noticed anything, anything, different about Ghost.
"Just that he seems glad to be back," Gaz tells you, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. It's the way he says "back" that gives you pause. Back. Back from where? Were you the only one that had been holding out hope he wasn't dead? Had the rest of your team been sitting in the hospital room with what they thought was a corpse? You don't push it further, too afraid what Gaz will say next. They're glad he's alive and that's all you have to hold onto.
It's almost like nothing happened when he's discharged --sooner than anyone expected, sooner than a normal man should've been after what happened-- and you almost start to believe nothing did happen. You can ignore the scar on your shoulder, the only evidence that Ghost ever spared you his fate. You can ignore the way he slides his hand against the curve of your back when he never used to. You can ignore the fact that, that's all he'll do, just touch you. Like he's reassuring himself you're there. He hasn't come to your room, he hasn't pulled you into his lap, he hasn't kissed you or called you anything but your name, and you're the only one who seems to notice.
You're the only one that raises an objection when Ghost is cleared for duty. The only one with no real reason to object. The way he stares you down afterwards... he knows that you know something you shouldn't.
It's not until you're actually in the field with him that you realize what it is, where he must have come back from. It's the way he pushes his mask up, hunched and panting over a pile of corpses. The way he wipes his bloodied hand against his lips. The dark black smoke that he forces from his lungs with each exhale. The inky veins of his hands, his arms. The sulfur smell that sticks in your nose. Fire and brimstone. He looks at you like a wild animal, any thoughts behind his eyes unfathomable and inhuman.
He's perfect, you think. A perfect machine, made just for this. Your Simon, wrong in all the right ways.
"You're not supposed to see this," He rolls his shoulders back, tips his head towards you as he licks the blood off his lips. You raise your gun, keep it trained on him. He takes a step towards you, and you shoulder your rifle, stand a little more purposefully.
"Don't move," You warn him.
"Put the gun down," Ghost warns you in turn. He takes another step towards you, you slip your foot back, preparing to run. His eyes dart over your shoulder. "Price tell them."
You turn to look and feel your heart drop as Ghost grabs your gun. No one's there. Why would they be?
Ghost rips your gun from your hands and spins you, twisting your arm behind your back. You struggle, stomp on his insole, he twists your other arm behind your back to hold you like a wild dog. Barking and biting at nothing. When you finally do sag against his hold, it feels the same as always. You expected the dread of a death sentence to seize you, but it's like sparring.
"I missed you," He murmurs, pulling you against his chest. Ghost's head drops, his covered nose against your neck, breathing you in. The ridges of his mask are uncomfortably inflexible.
"You left me," You bite back, all the misplaced anger pushing itself to the surface. How could he take that hit for you? Didn't he know how much it would hurt you? What happened to always coming home? What happened to never leaving you alone? He died. He fucking died, and he came back wrong and no one will believe you.
"I know," He presses his lips to your shoulder, to your still aching scar, "I'm sorry."
"You left," You can't think of anything else to say, can't think of any other words to break on your tongue. You emotions are running wild. Tears prick at your eyes, anger, frustration, grief you never let yourself touch. It all hurts more than you can put into words.
"Never again," Ghost tells you, he's so warm and solid behind you, he still holds you like you might make a run for it, "I'm all yours now, yeah? Never leaving you again," He kisses your jaw, you can smell the blood on him, "I'll claw my way out of as many graves as I have to, deal?"
You nod, feel something heavy settle in your chest, feel Ghost shiver behind you. That's what you're afraid of, you think, that he'll keep coming back. Different each time.
"Not different," Ghost hums in your ear, "Better."
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sayakaskokofish · 6 months
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Hey! So while everyone is waiting for my Diluc X Reader one shot, I decided to make a small treat for you all 🩷 (I worked hard making it all pretty so I really hope you like it, and I'll try doing more stuff like this after the Diluc oneshot as it will look way different, as I have had it for a long while sitting in there sobs)
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨
Characters selected!
➤ Nilou! 🌊💃🪷
➤ Tighnari! 🪴🦊🌱
➤ Kamisato Ayato! 🌊🧋🗡️
➤ Xiao! 🍃👹🍮
➤ Zhongli! 🪨🪙🍵
➤ Scaramouche/Wanderer! 🍃🫐👶
Content: Reader being a ballerina and them seeing the performance (because I've been obsessed with the black and white swan recently 🩷)
Readers gender/pronouns: Gender neutral, They/Them (but you are 100% free to place your own pronouns here as it is for readers!)🫧
Hope you enjoy! ღゝ◡╹)ノ
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𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: Nilou!
"Hips don't lie - Shakira" // sped up ☆
02:10 ━━━━●───── 03:39
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🫧✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚
• Nilou, being a dancer herself, was super excited! She loved seeing other people dance. It gave her full happiness when she saw you come up on stage wearing a pretty costume. She watched every second of the show in awe. Candace, Dehya, and Kevah who were sitting next to her could see stars in her eyes as she watched your performance.
• She couldn't help it! She was enchanted watching you dance every single time! Sure, she could dance well.. but watching you dance was so much better. Your movements, Costume, even the way your hair was made her light up as she watched you. She happily ate the small snacks Dehya has snuck in for the small group.
• After your performance ended, she went straight up to you, leaving the others behind as she hugged you tightly. She spewed only kind words as she told you how great you looked and how pretty your dance was. Afterwards, she helped massage your feet from dancing. Even as you both fell asleep, she couldn't help but think about your dancing. She was truly mesmerized.
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Next Up: Tighnari!
"Just a cloud away - Pharrell Williams" // sped up ☆
01:15 ━━━━●───── 02:56
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🌱‧₊˚𖦹 ࣪.𓋼𓍊 ☘️
• At first he didn't think he even had time to go see your performance. But after Collei had asked, he gave in and they went to go see it. He regrets nothing. Him and Collei were sitting a good distance away to where they could see you properly, and they were snacking on the overpriced snacks that the place had sold as they watched you.
• As Collei was watching, she had turned to look at Tighnari, looking to see if he was paying attention.. only to find his tail wagging back and forth in the chair. His eyes were entirely on the stage. She gave him a (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠) look before looking back at the stage with a huge smile on her face.
• After the performance, Tighnari was holding Collei's hand as they walked to where you were resting, taking off your shoes. He had saw a small bruise on your foot and once the three of you got home, he praised your performance as he massaged your feet and aided the bruise, his tail still wagging.
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Continuing: Kamisato Ayato!
"Carless Whisper - George Michael" // sped up ☆
02:43 ━━━━●───── 05:01
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🌊.𖥔 ݁ ˖🧋₊ ⊹
• His sister had asked to go see one of your dances and while he was busy.. he was able to cram the rest of his work in two days so him, Ayaka, and Thoma could go see your performance. After getting in the good seats they had paid for, they watch the show. Ayaka had a huge smile on her face as she looked over to her brother who had a small smile on his face as he drank the boba he had snuck in inside his sleeves.
• When the performance had ended, they all went to go see you and afterwards, they spent the rest of the day going getting food and relaxing since he now had a few days of free time.
• He had decided that he would get you a custom costume and pair of shoes made for your next performances. Ayaka had helped him with it, finding accessories for you.
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Next Up: Xiao!
"I can't handle change - Roar" // sped up ☆
02:36 ━━━━●───── 03:18
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🍃* ೃ ༄
• He denied coming to your performance due to his duty to protect Liyue as it is in his contract, however.... If you looked hard enough, you'd see him in the back just watching. Amazed.
• As the performance hit the best part, Xiao was stuck there, watching with stars in his eyes. Even if his face didn't show it, he was glad he came and watched you. He would've regretted it, especially if he had saw the face of disappointment when you couldn't see him.
• After the performance, you were met with Xiao with a small Qingxin in hie hand. He shyly held it out to you before saying he liked your show, poofing into the greenish teal smoke and with that, he was gone. Only this time like the rest, his face was a bit pink.
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𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: Zhongli!
"Two Slow dancers - Mitski" // sped up ☆
01:03 ━━●─────── 03:59
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🪙`∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° 📃 合約 🪨
• Zhongli is a big fan of performances and watching them, he always spent time watching Yunjin and some of the other traditional dancers perform so he was quite delighted to accept your invitation!
• Hutao has invited herself along since she haven't had any customers the whole day, the two of them had sat down and waited, Hutao had snuck food inside because both her and Zhongli aren't paying that much for the food they are selling (💀).
• They watched as you danced around gracefully, Hutao had thrown some of her snack at some people who wasn't paying attention in-front of them. And after the performance ended, Hutao shoved a Lily in your face with a big smile and Zhongli stood behind her, his hand about to grab her pigtail as he complemented the preformance.
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𝗡𝗼𝘄 Listening to: Scaramouche/Wanderer(hoe)!
"They're only humans - death note: the musical" (the English version) // sped up ☆
01:55 ━━━━●───── 02:38
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡
🎐🍃 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ 🫐⚡
• He said that it sounded stupid as d that he wasn't going to go. That was 3 hours ago, Nahida told him to go anyways, because even if he didn't like it, him going would make you happy. He said hell no and left.
• Now he's sitting on a bench with Nahida beside him as every was talking, waiting for the preformance to start (it wasn't really anything big, just a small outside performance for people to sit and watch) as he crossed his arms, slumped. He was cursing the small archon beside him who had to get a few cusions to even see, which he laughed at.
• Nahida had looked over to her side as the preformance was going on, she was met with Wanderer/Scaramouche with a tear rolling down his eye. Throughout the whole preformance, he could only think about the story his deceased friend had told him which he had called stupid. The nutcracker and ballerina. In that very seat, he felt like the nutcracker and he hated how he felt, but he couldn't resist watching you dance beautifully.
• After the preformance, Nahida and Scaramouche were holding hands (much to his dismay and embarrassment) as they walked to where you were sitting, massaging your feet. Scaramouche's eyes were slightly red but after whispering to Nahida she had told you that he liked the preformance, to which he denied, his face as red as his eyes.
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Hello! I hope you liked this treat. And no, scaramouche didn't get favoritism 😭 was just able to write more for him, plus my emoticon website thing stopped working for me 😭 (so him and Zhongli are kinda half-assed with that small part) I'm getting used to having something that looks so pretty (in my eyes at least) so please bare with me, requests are open ❤️ Diluc oneshot may be a bit delayed however. Also, for requests, feel free to request a song (not a songfic) or have me give you one for the character(s) 🫧💗
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ao3commentoftheday · 2 years
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Recently I was listening to a podcast that delved into the ideas of attention verus recognition and, as so often happens when I encounter new ideas, I started applying that theory to fandom.
We receive attention when we are noticed, but that attention can be positive or negative, attached to us as people or just a result of us making noise. Attention applies to anything that causes a blip on the radar. Even an inanimate object can get attention. Attention doesn't make us feel good, it just makes us feel an echo of being noticed.
Recognition, on the other hand, occurs when another human being sees us as also being a human being. They see us as a person, living a life with thoughts and feelings of our own. There's a certain amount of empathy that goes into recognition that just isn't there with attention.
The relationship goes both ways, however, between the person receiving recognition and the person giving it. The receiver also has to see the giver as a fully realized human being, or else they only interpret it as attention.
Let me give you an example: kudos. If you look at kudos and you only see a number that is either higher or lower than the number you want it to be then you're seeing that as attention. If, however, you look at kudos and consider that every single one of those kudos was given by a person who read your story and liked it enough to read all the way to the end and then press a button with a little heart on it - that's when kudos will feel more like recognition.
For a long time I've known that there's a difference between comments and statistics, and I think this starts to explain it. When I read a comment, I think about the person behind the comment. When I reply to it, I'm replying to a person, not to text on a screen.
The times when I've been dissatisfied with comments coincide with the times when I've been focused on numbers. If I'm obsessing over how a fic is "performing" compared to one of my other fics (or worse yet, compared to someone else's fic), then I'm depersonalizing those comments. I'm removing them from the people who are leaving them and I'm focusing only on the fact that they exist. I'm giving them attention. I'm not giving them recognition. In turn, this makes them feel less like recognition to me.
This barely scratches the surface of the thoughts that I'm thinking right now, but I wanted to write it down so that I don't lose it while I'm digging into this more. If this strikes a chord with you, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If it doesn't, fair enough. Either way, thanks for reading ❤️
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mrsnancywheeler · 2 months
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Ok I’m back with the songs 🫡
I can’t remember if anyone else has mentioned this, but finnick/sweet girl are very much giving this is me trying by miss blondie herself
—————— 
I've been having a hard time adjusting. I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting” “And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that”
This reminded me a lot about their recent argument at the end of chapter 6, where sweet girl called him a liar and accused him of purposely playing mind games with her :(
—————— 
“And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town”
THIS MIGHT JUST BE FINNICKS ENTIRE INNER MONOLOGUE AFTER THEY BROKE UP #IDK !! OR !! HIS THOUGHTS DURING READER’S GAMES! How he has to keep up appearances and his playboy persona to make sure his sweet girl gets sponsors, but he’s actually feeling so much grief and stress. 
—————— 
Another song they remind me of is  Wasteland, Baby! But specifically:
“I’m in love, I'm in love with you. And I love too, that love soon might end. Be known in its aching”
Just reminded me about how they’re meant to go through tragedy :(( 
—————— 
BONUS SONGS!
we can't be friends (wait for your love) by Ariana Grande’s SCREAMS young!reader going through the breakup with Finnick :((
—————— 
“We can't be friends, but I'd like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again. Wait for your love”
Just her initial reaction to the breakup and how she still loves him :((
—————— 
“I don't like how you paint me, yet I'm still here hanging”
“Me and my truth, we sit in silence. Baby girl, it's just me and you. ‘Cause I don't wanna argue, but I don't wanna bite my tongue, yeah, I think I'd rather die. You got me misunderstood, but at least I look this good” This reminds me of when Finnick was saying all those things he didn’t mean about his sweet girl, and although she’s hurt by it she still loves him (and deep down she knows he doesn’t mean it!)
—————— 
And Comfort Crowd by Conan Gray is so them coded like PLEASE mainly about how reader keeps rejecting any comfort because she doesn’t feel like she deserves it + how she was afraid to voice that she wants said comfort during her hijacking
—————— 
“Wellin' up in tears as I lay upon your belly. Telling you, ‘I’m fine I don't really need nobody,’ But you say through a sigh that I said that lie already”
Need I say more. 
—————— 
“And even if I cry all over your body. You don't really mind. Say you like your shirt soggy.”
This could go for both Finnick and Reader! About how they both feel guilty for receiving comfort from the other person (Finnick bc he wants to give comfort too, and Reader bc she feels like she doesn't deserve it)
—————— 
I hope this isn’t too long hehe but these were my #thoughts. I’m a yapper at heart <3 lmk what you think!!
BUT SIDENOTE I SAW HADESTOWN FOR THE FIRST TIME LAST NIGHT W JORDAN FISHER AND !! His performance was fr giving me finnick vibes bc he was really giving that obsessed yearner vibe IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT LOL but it was so good!!
-🦅
buckle up folks because I love a lot to say 🫡❤️
this is me trying is so them, like very heavily
they're both really at their core such sunshiney people who've been so broken down and used by the world that they've really been dulled. and reader is always quick to bite back, especially when she's scared or frustrated or doesn't want to reveal her emotions, she doesn't have a complete grasp on reality yet, she's scared of being left behind, scared that finnick will die, scared of being alone and frustrated that he broke his promise to her so she lashes out.
110% to both of those, like he's so broken up, aching for her, in pain, blaming himself for everything, but he has to be what's expected of him. some drinks, laughing, flirting, smiling, when all he wants to do his curl up in bed crying as he holds into some remant of hers that he held onto all this time.
in the context of the most recent chapter "I just wanted you to know that this is me trying" is so very much both of them for different reasons
finnick says the things he does and does what he does because he wants to help her get better, to be delicate with her, keep her safe, keep her protected from the dangers of the time and her mental state. he's trying his hardest even if he doesn't always handle it in ways that bode well.
reader is trying to be herself again, she just wants to be treated normally regardless of how that affects her. once she's her she'll be less paranoid, more trusting, she's trying so hard to replicate that so she can get there and feels like he's not letting her. that her attempts are being shut down.
they are the tragic lovers, so in love, so obsessed, and constantly fated for hurt after hurt. all I'm saying is to watch moulin rouge and think of them because it's so finnick and his sweet girl in another life.
LITERALLY THOUGH if she could've she would've followed him around like a lost puppy dog, it would have fed into the narrative about her, but she's so desperately in love that she would have waited so patiently. in a way she did, but if he'd told her he was breaking up with her for other girls she was so young and so already achingly in love with him that she would have kept trailing around waiting for him to come baxk
(side note, finnick is really the love sick puppy, but reader reminds me of a stray cat who picks someone to love, always waits to be fed by them. given a little bit of attention and now will be attached for the long run. I thought googles description was really funny because it's just so her "With time and patience, a stray cat may trust you and want pets consistently. If you have grown close to a stray cat, it may feel upset or distressed if you suddenly leave it." so yeah she's a stray cat who finally got some love before being suddenly stranded again)
ANYWAYS yes, the way he talks about her and paints the portrait of their relationship is so hurtful. she totally cries about it consistently because to her he's perfect, and although she largely wants to believe what he said when they broke up and trust he still loves her, a part of her can't help but feel so stupid for letting herself be lead on by someone who's been said to be a playboy anyway. it makes her so insecure, so much more guarded, but she doesn't hate him, no she could never. she's in love with him. no matter what he says or does she's long placed her roots and won't tear them up.
that's literally the most them interaction to have never ever interacted, some of her tears have welled up, she's choking on pushed down sobs, and insisting that she's okay even though Finnick can read her like a book. he's softly scolding her for lying while she continues to try and insist until she's completely broken down into sobs.
reader could have the roughest day ever and still insist that she's fine, comfort finnick, love on him, hold him, and he spends the time hating that he's enjoying the loving when she's so obviously lying, masking everything. it's such a paradox. meanwhile she feels terrible for aching comfort because of things she does, she wants to suffer, but the lure of giving into finnick's arms is too much sometimes. especially knowing that he loves her so much and so well. she just has to let herself take what she needs even if she hates herself or it later.
ofc this isn't too long pookie, I love hearing y'all's thoughts no matter how long, yap to me endlessly pookie, I'm a yapper too. ❤️
YAY EXCITING I would love to see Jordan Fisher as Orpheus, he's so talented. I'd die, and yes it's just so Finnick 😭💕
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laundrybiscuits · 2 months
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I've recently been tagged in a few WIP/"last thing you've written" type games, and…to be completely candid, I haven't been writing any kind of fic lately because I've become a little bit obsessed with analyzing the Broadway revival of Merrily We Roll Along.
Not for any particular purpose, I just saw it at the Hudson a little while back and have a lot of feelings about it! In my tiny scraps of spare time, I've been working on an essay about Merrily and inevitability that will probably end up rotting in my google docs*, because that's how I approach writing as a hobby.
There's just so much there, holy shit. I'm focusing particularly on "Franklin Shepard, Inc." because Radcliffe's Charley brings a frenetic, desperate vulnerability to the performance that reads so, so differently from earlier productions. Throughout the show, I was consistently blown away by the heavy lifting Radcliffe, Mendez, and Groff do in shifting the core tension from "art vs commerce" (fine but basic, and difficult to keep modern) to "how people prioritize different types of relationships in their lives."
In an effort to make this slightly less wildly off-topic for this blog: this has gotten me thinking about the way that platonic relationships are treated in narratives, particularly but not exclusively in fandom.
"Found family" is and has always been a popular trope, but I do think its current incarnation trades a lot on the underlying fantasy of relationship permanence. When we recategorize friendships as familial relationships, we're making a claim—whether or not it's justified—about the indelibility of those relationships.
That's not inherently bad (or, god forbid, problematic). I think it's very very natural, especially for those who don't necessarily have a lot of experience with the way adult friendships change over time. Why wouldn't you want something as precious and unique and amazing as a good friendship to stay with you forever?
Certain people can feel like pillars of your world, and it's fucking terrifying to think about that being yanked out from under you—or even worse, to think about your lives slowly shifting like geologic plates until suddenly you realize it's been weeks, then months, then years since you last really talked.
CHARLEY: We're not that kind of close any more, the way we used to be. And a friendship's like a garden. You have to water it and tend it and care about it. And you know what? I want it back.
It's a peculiar, particular kind of grief when it happens, because even though it's a fairly common human experience, it doesn't get socially acknowledged in the same way as e.g. a romantic breakup.
So yeah, it makes a lot of sense that found family is a popular trope in all kinds of media, not just fandom.
However...at this point, I've developed a knee-jerk wariness to the phrase "found family," because I've found it often correlates with a really flat, simplistic depiction of human relationships. In extreme cases, it simply recontextualizes a relationship within the socially acknowledged/acceptable framework of a stereotypical family unit.
This does a disservice to familial and nonfamilial relationships alike. Every family is different, so why do so many found families in media look the same?
(I was monologuing about this to my very patient girlfriend, and she pointed out that this also sets up a success/failure binary condition in relationships, where permanence is the arbiter of success in both romantic and nonromantic contexts. She is of course both beautiful and correct!)
I have friends with whom I can sometimes share a glance and know exactly what they're thinking. I even have a running joke with one friend about the sheer number of times we've said the same thing in unison over the last 15 years. I still need to be intentional about building those relationships, extending empathy when we differ, and carving out time to reconnect. Truly intimate long-term relationships of any kind involve disagreements, conflicting priorities, and negotiating and renegotiating boundaries.
Being "basically the same person" or "sharing a braincell" actually sounds super fucking lonely to me, personally, and it handily elides the difficult, essential process of keeping people in your life.
FRANK: Old friends let you go your own way. CHARLEY: Help you find your own way. MARY: Let you off when you're wrong. F: If you're wrong. C: When you're wrong. M: Right or wrong, the point is, old friends shouldn't care if you're wrong. F: Should, but not for too long. C: What's too long?
That's a more complicated and much more mature narrative to tell than "friendship will save the day!" Because it's not that common and there's not a deep bank of references to draw from, it takes a lot of effort and skill to depict well, and I don't blame creators for not wanting to let it suck up all the air in the room. However, I think it's important to acknowledge that platonic relationships can also be flanderised and flattened.
In the context of fandom, which has always traded heavily in Romance genre conventions, I would really like to see more thoughtful explorations of complicated nonromantic relationships. I'm not even talking about genfic here! I've actually been thinking about Stobin specifically because that relationship (rightly & understandably) tends to show up in any Steve-centric fic, including the vast ocean of Steddie fics, so it makes the issue slightly more visible than I've seen in other fandoms.
I'm not saying I want to see them fight, or not be friends, or not love each other fiercely and near-obsessively in the way that lonely teenagers can. I'm just saying I want them to be distinct individuals who view the world in very different ways, and choose each other anyway. They already have a complicated past; I know from personal experience that it's possible as a lesbian to be best friends with a guy who once made a little speech about how into you he was, but that little layer of history never quite goes away.
I don't want frictionless relationships in my life. I want people who will challenge me and whom I can challenge, in the context of love and trust. I want people in my life whom I have to work to understand, because my life is richer when I do. And sometimes, I want narratives that will reflect the grief of friendships that are no longer part of my life, despite the best efforts of everyone involved.
In Merrily, Charley sings, "Friendship's something you don't really lose—" but Radcliffe's thready, pleading delivery makes it all too clear: Charley already knows he's lying. The audience just needs to catch up.
*Other essays in that particular graveyard: understanding the cast of Peanuts through the lens of anomie, humor and subversive linguistic nationalism in 00s Singaporean TV, how to fix Miss Saigon. WHY am I this way.
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