#and i'm saying that as someone who is simply not religious at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koemiexists · 2 months

Note

Hey! Can I get dom!Lucifer x fem! Reader pretty pls? Like I love him being a sub, but I don't think there's enough smut of him being a dom 🙏🏽

Accidentally Taking Souls

summary: you accidentally sold your soul to lucifer, and he accidentally accepted it. it only happens every one in twelve million five hundred fifty seven thousand souls! which also means, you're the first. tags: PANIC ATTACK, comfort, biting, porn with plot basically, not very good friends, dom!lucifer, drunken confessions, but not DRUNKEN sex, choking (consensual), fingering, breeding kink, surprise at the end word count: 4k a/n: this was already sorta on my to-do list, a lucifer x reader shot, then alastor x reader x lucifer shot, but it also fit your ask so !! apologies for delays :) i'm getting to them (a bit slowly...)

Truthfully, you weren’t religious. Your mother had always been, however. She would drag you to church, and make you pray almost all the time. Once you moved out for college, you never looked back.

When she died, she left nothing to you, but a single slip of paper. ‘Don’t sin.’

You truly didn’t care at that point, you didn’t believe in everything she had spewed, and continued to warn you about, even in death.

She had always warned you about your friends, telling you that they were demons who had risen from Hell to make you sin. It was truly baffling for her to spout her nonsense, especially in front of your friends themselves.

And yet, those very same friends were on your living room floor, staring at you with various smiles of pure delight.

“You want me to do what?”

“It’s not a want, (Name)... It’s a dare.”

You groaned; you were tired of this. “Why are you daring me to sell my soul? To the devil?”

One of your friends just smirked. “He’s not real, right? You shouldn’t have a problem.”

Blinking, you just took a deep breath, and shrugged your shoulders. “You’re right.” You said simply, and sat down.

One of the girls had unfurled from her position on the floor, digging into her bag. “Here.” She started, beginning to take out various things. “I can help you!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I don’t just say ‘have my soul devil’?”

“Damn (Name), I didn’t expect you to be that dumb.” She joked, bringing a needle to your hand. “No, it doesn’t go like that. If the deal is accepted, you’ll be in Hell.... maybe. That’s what the occult book told me.” She shrugged, pricking your finger, and dropping blood messily. “I just have to draw some runes...”

After the entire ordeal was over, especially the disastrous game of truth and dare, you retired for the night, concluding that you didn’t want to be up any longer and overthink what just happened.

Your friends had cheerily bid you goodbye, and you had waved them away, telling the group you’ll talk to them in a few days.

The last thing you could remember was the pleasant feeling of your sheets, and the cool squishmallow in your arms.

You awoke slowly, you felt as if you were drifting away... and then you felt someone poke at you.

Dismissing it, you turned away, until it registered in your head. Someone poked you.

You lived alone.

Jolting up in your bed, you looked around. There was a man towering you, grinning sheepishly. You let out a yell, keeping your plushie close to you as you kicked off the sheets covering you, falling off the bed.

Except that didn’t make sense, because your bed was just a mattress on the floor! It was close to the ground, and yet you dropped a good few inches from the ground.

Fear was coursing through your veins, and you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, followed by a serene calmness- but your adrenaline was still pumping, and your inner voice was screaming at you to get up, run run run run run RUN!

You jolted, trying to maneuver yourself to get up and start running away except when you glanced down you started to scream because of your skin tone-- it was a weird hue, definitely not natural, definitely not yours.

“Hey! Calm down- girl- fuck- bitch, calm down!” You let out a hiccup as your eyes flickered from your hands to the man. He seemed to be fiddling with something, before dropping it and orienting you.

“Sorry,” He huffed, and you managed to get a good look at him. His skin was milky white, and he had platinum blonde hair that was swooped locks. You looked away again, and he gently put you back on the bed. “Don’t fall off again.”

You sniffled, nodding. “Shit.... I don’t even know how this happened. Usually this is when people sell their souls... but I never...” He paused his pacing and muttering, turning to you.

Your hair was obstructing your face as you stared down at your lap, but when he approached you, you instantly stared at him. “Did you sell your soul... to me?”

“You aren’t the Devil.” You said instantly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. “I-”

The man just laughed. “No, you can call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smirked, his grin wide and toothy as he looked at you with lidded vermillion eyes. “The ruler of Hell.”

You stared, mouth ajar.

And then laughed, boisterous and teetering to purely unsettling.

Lucifer stared at you as you laughed, and laughed... and wait-! No, you were still laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a hand on his hip as you still was chuckling, tears in your eyes.

“Okay, I’m having a crazy lucid dream!” You snorted, and searched for a clock, staring at it intensely.

Lucifer cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

“Weird.” You muttered, staring at the clock even more. Why weren't the hands going haywire? Why was it normal?

You turned your eyes to your hands, studying it. It was... fine. Nothing was abnormal besides the fact your skin was a different color. You felt yourself panicking again, and you closed your eyes, willing for something different to happen.

Your panic began to increase dramatically as you heaved, tearing up as you looked at the clock again. You tried to take in breaths, but it was hard to even register that your lungs were burning.

Hands were gripping your wrists. You felt sick. Your head was pounding, and you knew you had to be yelling, because your throat ached and was scratchy. You could barely see, but you kept thrashing.

After a while, you felt all your energy zapped from you, you just slumped, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. Blearily, you watched as a muddled version of Lucifer appeared in front of you, looking you over.

“Ok?” He whispered, and you blinked slowly, tilting your head at him slowly. “Is- Did you settle? Uhm. Are you a bit okay now?”

You shrugged, and he wiped your tears, gently gathering you in his arms. His limber figure made his way to what appeared to be a bathroom, and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge bathtub. On the sides were a bunch of rubber ducks.

Lucifer gave you a mischievous look as he placed you down after stripping you down to your underwear, running the water warm.

“I made them.” He said, placing only certain ones in the water. “Some of these definitely cannot go in.” He moved a light blue one off to the side. “It produces voltage,” Lucifer explained, getting some bubble bath soap, and pouring it over the running water. In an instant, bubbles began to form around you.

You gave him a look. Because, really? Voltage duck?

He pouts a little. “I just... I made them.... Why not? It’s entertaining!”

You don’t know how creating ducks can be entertaining.

Lucifer gave a huge dramatic sigh, pushing his hair back, and bemoaned your inability to see how delightful his ducks were.

“You’re weird,” You uttered, your voice extremely scratchy. Lucifer winced, and quickly whirled his hand, a water bottle appearing.

“Here,” He said, motioning the water. “It’s cold.” It was cold. “Icy too.” Okay... “Maybe even...” You looked at him, as the water in your mouth began to get colder. “Pure ice.” Your mouth was beginning to get cold, really quickly. “Haha- sorry, bad prank?” Would it even be classified as a prank? More of an inconvenience, especially with how parched you were.

You stared at him silently, drinking more of the cold water that he provided. “So... I’m dead?” You whispered, glancing down at the bubbly surface.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect to go to Hell so soon.” You muttered, looking around inconspicuously. It was very grand, fit for a king indeed.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, confused at your statement. “You knew you were going to Hell?”

You smiled gently. “Never listened to my mom. Super religious. Wasn’t my style.”

He hummed in response, and helped you finish cleaning up. You felt tired afterwards, and just wanted to sleep now that everything was done. Lucifer led you to a guest bedroom, sprucing up the surroundings a little. He gently tucked you in, and you gave a small noise of appreciation.

“I’ll show you around, later.”

You yawned, nodding.

“My daughter...” He had a daughter? “She has a hotel.”

“Mmm.”

Lucifer smiled at your sleepy sounds. “Supposed to redeem sinners.”

You turned over, groaning. “Go away... I don’t care...” You slurred, sleep clouding your head like a fog. “Ngh... wait.” You blinked rapidly, turning back to Lucifer. “What?”

He smirked. “Redemption of sinners?” He repeated, giving you a teasing look.

“Is it possible?!”

Lucifer inhaled. “I... don’t know. Maybe? I just like to support my daughter’s dreams.” He pauses. “Even if it’s a bit far-fetched, she believes in it.” Another huge pregnant pause. “If it does work, you won’t become a human, you’ll just be an angel.”

You turned away again. “Ugh.”

He snorted, and fixed your blankets. “Goodnight,” He crooned, placing a small rubber duck on your dresser. “You have to wake up really early tomorrow!”

He cackled when you just groaned.

After a few days of living like this, Lucifer deemed you ready to meet his daughter. When you inquired why before you couldn’t he just muttered about some sinner that would rip you to shreds. You didn’t really understand, but he seemed to hate that one sinner with a passion, so your questioning didn’t continue past that.

He led you to a huge building that had the words Hazbin Hotel in big letters at the top. You glanced at the infrastructure, cringing at some of the design choices. It was surely unique, although you knew it definitely needed some sprucing up.

“It’s pretty,” Was all that came out of your mouth. Lucifer gave you a half-hearted noise of acknowledgement, ringing the bell. You heard light footsteps, and as soon as the door began to open, Lucifer burst past it.

“CHARLIE!”

“Hi dad...”

You shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to see you. “Oh!” There they go. “Sorry, sorry! Uh- how are you? What’s your name?” Charlie began to babble, leading you inside with gentle hands. “I’m Charlie!”

Lucifer was right by your side again, causing you to stumble. “(Name),” You offered weakly, gaining your balance again as Lucifer began to chuckle lowly next to you. “I...”

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said smoothly, smirking. “I have a favor to ask of you, Char-Char.”

Her attention was instantly on her father, head cocked to the side barely, questioning.

“She... accidentally sold her soul to me.” He started off slowly, and Charlie gave him a weird look.

“So? She shouldn’t be here unless you accept... Dad!” She yelled out at the end, and Lucifer winced. “How did you accidentally accept a soul??”

He groaned. “By accident, of course! Listen Charlie-”

“That poor girl-”

You looked back and forth tiredly, before clearing your throat. “What’s done is done,” You started, glaring at Lucifer lightly. “Besides, Luci has been helping me get accustomed to my new world. But we were hoping you knew how to redeem sinners so I can be redeemed.”

Charlie began to shift nervously. “Well- we don’t have a set method.”

You stared at her.

“We don’t have one sinner who’s been redeemed... yet.”

“Yet.” You parroted, giving her a blank look.

She bit her lip lightly. “Yes, yet. I’m sorry (Name), we are only just starting and I know being in Hell was a mistake.”

You felt numb, and can only barely register how Lucifer had lifted you up, pulling you away and whispering apologies against you. “Sorry,” He murmured, and you let out a soft sigh due to his hand on your scalp. “I’m so sorry, I thought she would have found a way already...”

“No need to apologize,” You huffed, blinking away unshed tears as he calmed you down. You still felt extremely upset, but it wasn’t truly anyone's fault.

Lucifer gave you an apologetic look still, before putting you down. You looked around, blinking. “Where are we?”

“Guest room,” Lucifer replied, fixing the sheets as you gained your bearings. The couch was ratty, with small tears on the cushions; the back of it was dingy, yet when you moved, it stayed steady despite the obvious damages.

You got up, and he motioned to the bed, smiling at you gently. “Want to sleep? It’s getting a bit late already.”

Confused, you gave him an inquiring look. He smiled sheepishly, motioning to the clock. “It’s the evening, I think your perception is a bit skewed...”

Right, your outburst. “Sorry,” You said, feeling guilty.

Lucifer just waved you off. “Do you want to sleep?” He asked, and you shook your head, looking at the door.

“Is there a place to get a drink?” You just wanted to get drunk, if you were being honest.

He hummed. “There’s a bartender, apparently.” He replied, taking your hand into his. “Steady,” He spoke lowly, as you stumbled a bit, letting him lead you down the hall.

You both made it to the bar, where you practically threw yourself at the stool, asking the bartender, apparently named Husk, to make you a strong drink.

He merely grunted in acknowledgment, turning away to start mixing it. Lucifer grinned toothily at you, before he turned around to go be with his daughter.

One drink turned into two, then into three, and before you knew it you were seven drinks in, and you were giggling with Angel, a patron at the hotel.

“You’re really,” You paused, hiccuping due to how fast you drank your last shot. “Really interesting, Angel.” Your words were slurred, and almost hard to decipher. Angel, however, understood you completely considering he was also tremendously drunk.

“Thank you, sweet thing.” He smirked, his gold tooth glittering in the light as he moved closer to you. He smelled like artificial fruits, and you wrinkled your nose in distaste, bile swirling right beneath your esophagus. “So, Short king is with ya?”

You nod, still fighting the urge to retch at the stench of his perfume. “Uhn, yeah, he is. I, uhm... made a deal with him, apparently,” You slurred, pausing almost every word you said. “Sorry, your perfume smells gross.”

Angel rolled his eyes, throwing two of his hands up. “Ugh! Val made me wear it for today’s shoot-”

“Why?” You nearly whined, scooting backwards as Angel began to spray a different perfume.

He sighed. “I work sex, babe.” When you cocked your head to the side, he began to rephrase his drunken words. “I’m a porn star.”

You flushed at that, and shrugged lightly. “Each to their own I guess...”

Humming, Angel brought another drink to his mouth, downing it in one go. “On the topic of sex,” He slurred, smirking as Lucifer slowly approached you two. “Who would you have sex with here? Based on appearance.” He hiccuped.

“Lucifer is super hot,” You giggled, biting your lip lightly as you stood up, swaying at your spot. “I wouldn’t mind having him fuck me, I need a good pound.” You dissolved into light giggles, finding the idea of fucking the ruler of Hell amusing, getting him worked up by a lowly sinner...

You yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “Don’t squirm,” Lucifer said lightly, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m taking you to bed. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,”

A laugh came from in front of you, and you glared at Angel as he smiled even wider, smug. “Bye, (Name). Remember to not gag-!”

His voice was cut off as light swarmed your vision. You shut your eyes tight, feeling your stomach roll in pain as your surroundings became the guest room. “Hngh,” You whined, collapsing onto the bed. “Mm, Luci...”

Lucifer stroked your head as you chugged the water he gave, before he ushered you to bed to sleep the liquor off.

Your eyes were shut the instant he had dropped your head back on the pillow.

When you awoke, your head instantly began to pound, before tapering off to a light throbbing. You blinked, and turned to look to the side where the warmth was radiating. “Hi,” Lucifer smiled at you, his expression sleepy as his wings stretched from his back. “You’re awake.”

“And hungover,” You groaned, rubbing at your temples.

You screeched when your wrists were pinned above your head, and Lucifer was on top of you, straddling your hips. In this position, with you staring up at him, he truly did look angelic. His hair was messy, strewed in different directions. The glow from the light on a dresser behind him illuminated certain visible parts of him to you, and it just gave him such an ethereal glow.

You sucked a breath in as he shifted, his wings spreading out from his back, and you could almost imagine that golden halo on top of his head right now.

“Do you want this?” He uttered, voice deep with sleep and slightly gravelly. Arousal bloomed in your abdomen as you nodded quickly. “Words, ducky.”

“Yes.” You nearly whined, and he grinned, teeth all showing.

He practically pounced after that, ripping your bottoms off, and instantly his claws were at your underwear, shredding it with a flick of his wrist. Lucifer let out a growling noise as he leaned into you, thrusting a single finger into your awaiting cunt.

Slick was dripping down his hand after a few thrusts, messy and almost disgusting as wet slapping sounds quickly reverberated throughout the bedroom.

“Dripping, all for me?” He teased, beginning to lightly rub your clit with his thumb as he nipped at your neck and chest. “I just need to put my claim on you.”

You moaned, shaking at his ministrations. “Bite me,” You whispered softly before you broke on a high pitch whimper.

His teeth gleamed as he smirked at you, before surging forward to bite you right between your shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth digging deep into your skin before he pulled away.

You let out a sob at the pain, then a moan as he sped up with his fingers. “Sorry,” He said, guilt filling his voice slightly as he looked at you with lidded eyes. You weakly watch as he gently moves his other hand over the bleeding wound as the pain eased into slight numbing.

“I liked it,” You murmured, kissing him again, and biting his lip as you rolled your hips into his hand.

He let out an indistinguishable noise, before he thrusted his hand deep in you, watching as you came all over his hand, liquid shooting all over his arm.

“Good?” He asked, kissing you softly, before pulling away, licking at his fingers that were soaked in your release.

You nod, smiling as he beamed lightly at you. Moving slightly, you pulled your legs up, leaving your cunt more exposed for him. “Take me, Luci.” You had whined, cunt fluttering at the thought of his cock in you.

Lucifer flushed, his cheeks becoming a darker ruddy color, as he took off his pants. His thick cock slapped his thigh, and both of you giggled at the noise. “Sorry,” He laughed lightly, but you just shook your head smiling.

“It’s okay to be a bit silly, Luci.” You had said quietly, breath hitching as he entered you.

Lucifer sank deep into your cunt, inhaling sharply as you squeezed him. You had yet to indicate you wanted him to move, inhaling and exhaling lightly as you eased up around him.

You nodded, but he still hadn’t moved. His face was extremely red as he stayed still, his breath labored. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving slightly as your cunt squeezed then relaxed around him. “Luci, are you o-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled almost fully out, his flushed tip just barely stretching your cunt. You looked up at him as he shoved his cock inside again, slamming into you. “Mm- Lucifer-” You tried to speak, but he just kissed you, your tongues entwining as small noises of pleasure emitted from you.

He pulled away, panting as his hair became more messed up from his movements. “Want me to stop?” He paused, to see what you needed.

You growled lightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips. He let out a small yelp, grasping your hips in a bruising manner. “Okay!” He kissed you, and slammed into you again. “Okay, you want me that badly huh? My pretty baby. All wet and slick for m-”

He paused as he was pulling out when you let out a whimper. “Daddy,” You had said quietly, nearly inaudibly.

“What?”

You flushed this time, looking off to the side as you worried your lip between your teeth. “Sorry, I...”

Lucifer gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and when you snapped your head to look at him, he smirked, gently squeezing, before his grip became lax again. When you nodded, indicating you were okay with it, he grinned.

“My girl, all wet for her daddy. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? When we fuck, ducky, you look at me. When I kiss you, you think about me. When I impregnate you, you look at me. Understood?”

You wailed in pleasure, cunt gripping his thick cock. “Yes daddy! I understand,” You blabbed, and you took a deep inhale right as Lucifer squeezed your neck.

“Do you even deserve to be fucked by me?” He asked, rubbing your clit lightly. As you began to teeter over the edge, he stopped all movements, looking at you. “I asked you a question.”

You heaved, gripping at his hand. “N-no,” You choked out, and he released his grip, kissing your neck. “Daddy,” You whimpered, watching as Lucifer pulled away to adjust your position. He had your lower half fully bent now, your knees nearly touching the bed as he grasped your waist, shoving his cock back inside you.

Screaming at the new found spot he hit, you began to earnestly moan, loud noises coming from your mouth as every thrust he made hit your sweet spot perfectly. “Ah- ah!” You bit your lip, causing it to bleed. Lucifer leaned in, sucking your lip into his mouth, before he caught your mouth in an open kiss, licking at your tongue.

“Good girl,” He purred, shoving his thick cock deeper and deeper inside you. “I’m going to make you into a mommy, do you want to be a mother? For me?” You felt your orgasm approach as you nodded, whimpering at the idea of your belly becoming swollen with a child.

He kissed you, and you bit his lip as you came, your legs shaking as you inhaled deeply, jerking at the aftershocks as Lucifer continued to thrust, pace off. Jackhammering into you for another moment, he stopped, his cock deep inside you as he groaned, cum coating your walls.

You felt gross, but he merely gently rubbed at the small bulging in your lower abdomen, sighing. “Good?” He inquired, kissing your cheek.

“Good,” You confirmed, beaming tiredly.

A month had passed, and you were chatting idly with Charlie.

“So,” You started, smiling lightly. “I have news.”

She grabbed your hands, eyes bright. “What is it? Oh! Did you find someone to stay at the hotel? Did you find some staff? Is there some news happening in Pentagram City? Wait! Let me guess, did a new restaurant open up-”

You laughed, calming her down as you smiled cheekily. “No, not any of that.” Pausing as Lucifer went up to sit by you. “Me and Luci,” You started, glancing at him. “Are expecting.”

Charlie froze. “Huh? Expecting what? A package?”

Lucifer grinned widely, as his daughter slowly began to understand. “You’re going to be a big sister, Char-Char!”

960 notes · View notes

babushkatty · 5 months

Text

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 1

-> Part 2

Your isekai trip (or descension, as others called it) into Teyvat was as abrupt as it was underwhelming.

There were no midnight showers of gold and purple, reminescent of the wishing screen you would religiously open every hour or so, hoping to miraculously have 160 primogems to make another pull. No sudden change in weather as Teyvat welcomed you with the eagerness of a golden lab puppy. No sudden meetings of significant and powerful people (vision holders, archons, adepti or otherwise) that would either scorn you or worship you with the zeal of a fanatic either.

No, it was a very quiet and peaceful affair.

You went to sleep in your bed after another mundane day that was more a blur than a memory, only to wake up in the ruins of Old Mondstadt, on the back of a peacefully sleeping Dvalin -- feeling well rested for what seemed like the first time in years, free of the pain poor sleeping positions and even worse body posture developed into.

Old Mondstadt is so much more beautiful than you remember it being in the game, but it was understandable -- it wasn't a game anymore.

The wind sings the haunting melody of Stormterror's Lair as you simply sit on Dvalin's back for hours, at peace with the world and yourself. You forget entirely about the stress of assignments, of deadlines, of examinations stacked unto one another like a house of cards, of trying to fit expectations of your friends and family that you were never made to fit and simply let yourself be.

You breathe.

It was nice.

"All-Mother." Dvalin rumbles from underneath you and it breaks the blissfull trance. He turns his head to look at you, seemingly not minding you being completely sprawled out on his back like roadkill.

"I'm sorry, Dvalin, I think you mistook me for someone." You smile sheppishly.

He huffs, but instead of sounding annoyed he just seemed... Indulgent. It was a good sign to you, who were pretty much at his mercy -- if he wanted to, he could use you as his personal toothpick and you wouldn't be able to do anything against it at all, so it's for the best that the situation doesn't escalate like that.

Then again, Venti did say Dvalin was a gentle child. You didn't see any blood clot crystals on his neck or back, so you were probably in the clear. Worst case scenario, he'd dump you on the ground and you'd have a bruised tailbone.

He made a damn good bed though, you wouldn't mind lounging on him some more if he allowed it.

"You are the All-Mother, there is no mistake. But it is only natural to deny, you do not remember."

He brings his head back and nuzzles you. You quietly melt into a puddle of happiness as he purrs and rubs against you like an overgrown cat.

He was so soft it was criminal. It was like the 'if evil why hot' trend all over again, except this time it was 'if scary why soft' instead.

"Teyvat will remember for you, even when you do not. Your kindness, your warmth, your care - all shall be paid back in full and more, for you are the All-Mother and like any mother, mortal or otherwise, you deserve to be taken care of by your children."

You don't argue, if only because dragons are known for being stubborn. The atmosphere was too nice to waste on a petty argument.

"Do you know how I got here?" you ask instead.

You don't ask about the way back quite yet. You're not sure you ever would, if you were being honest. It just... Felt right to be here, in Teyvat, instead of back home.

In the back of your mind, you quietly wonder if you should feel guilty about not being attached to your old world, to your friends and family, all that much, but you dismiss the notion quickly. Feeling different than what you were taught was normal wasn't wrong, people were different from one another and trying to hold yourself to an impossible standard just because it was the average would only make you miserable.

Your world was slowly growing more accepting towards differences, perhaps in a few decades your emotional stance would be validated as well.

"Teyvat brough you here, that is all I know."

Dvalin huffs against you and you chuckle, a little ticklish.

You both fall silent after that and simple enjoy each other's presence and the ambience of Old Mondstadt.

Dvalin's willingness to simply be, without chatter or interaction, only made your resolve to stay stronger. No one back home understood your need to simply be in a room with another presence, both people doing their own things, everyone called you odd for it.

It was really nice.

"Call me (Name)."

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

I'm bad at naming things and I'm bad at tumblr - perfect combination!

It's a gender-neutral post/series (if I write more), I promise! (Or at least I'm trying my best to write it as gender-neutral, you have full permission to yell at me if I slip up so that I can fix it!)

The term "All-Morher" is not meant to assign a gender, it's meant to compare the Creator of Teyvat to a mother (as I tried to clarify with Dvalin), because mothers bring life into the world and the Creator brought life to Teyvat.

You know, like a mother.

Besides, gods are above something as silly as gender or race *gesturing wildly to Loki giving birth to an 8-legged horse*

I am aiming for a very soft and gentle AU, the terms Creator or Your Grace didn't fit into it at all! Teyvat knows its' All-Mother is an utter softie that doesn't care for religious worship and would rather chill, so its' adjusting to fulfill those preferences -- hence, no grand entrance, no throwing its' All-Mother into the deep end by parking their ass in front of Mondstadt gates and no scrambling to survive.

Just a nice, quiet day chilling with Dvalin.

Fun fact, I have never done the Sumeru Quest and I don't have the space for Fontaine, so that's gonna remain a thing for a long, long while yet.

I don't read the manga either.

We D'ballin, ✨who needs lore accuracy anyways✨

That being said, I am slowly going insane because of the windows in-between subjects at Uni. Who made that a thing? I just want to talk, I promise.

Yell at my bad english, I'm an english major so all yelling is appreciated.

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

611 notes · View notes

yanfeisty · 1 year

Text

— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Liyue) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin & Zhongli. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious theme. ◞

⠀‣ Beidou

About The Creator: Relaxation

"We had to bring them to Inazuma for a few times, apparently they really wanted to travel with The Crux. Take important person like this isn't really what we do but you know my eye for people, Y/n seemed to be more than what we heard, they were a good travel buddy, playing with the crew and telling interesting stories from another world. Sad, the guards with them don't let them drink 'A drunk God in Inazuma? What would they think?'... But who cares what they think, they should let them have a bit of fun!"

About The Creator: Consort

"You can say traveling has brought us closer, haha! I'm really happy to have find someone like them. I'll never forget the celebration we had on the ship, the weather was kind to us this day, and the food was far better than what we're used to eat, and how could I forgot the drinks, I never saw Y/n that... wild, it's quite the experience, but it's good to see them without having to worry about anything."

⠀

⠀‣ Chongyun

About The Creator

"Like me they have an energy that keeps away evil spirits from them, I suppose spirits are too scared to approach in fear of vanishing into fin air. So, I wonder why people still ask me thinking they need an exorcism, last time, we called me because apparently the Creator had an unusual behavior, rambling unknown words beyond any language experts' knowledge, turned out they just had too many drinks with the leader of The Crux..."

⠀

⠀‣ Ganyu

About The Creator: Relating

"The Qixing had to work a few times with them, and I noticed they always seem a bit anxious so I always try to help them when I can, maybe it's also because I relate to them a bit, they are our Creator but they act more like a mortal, they are trapped between two worlds, leading to confusion not only for them but also others, which would always lead to critiques..."

About The Creator: Consort

"I have still a lot to finish about this, people from all regions will come so we need to strengthen the Millelith to keep everything in order, the music group that was supposed to perform left us so I have to look through the applications again, I need to verify the special invitations just in case there's an error in the date or location. Also, I'll have to go soon for the Sumeru's flowers that should arrive this afternoon. An union between who, you ask? O-Oh... me and Y/n of course! Sorry if I wasn't clear. There's no need to worry about me, I just want everything to be perfect, I don't think I will be able to not blame myself if something bad happened, I know Y/n told me they'll be happy no matter what as long as I'm with them, but that just makes me want to work more for a perfect ceremony."

⠀

⠀‣ Hu Tao

About The Creator

"Even the most superior being needs a long rest sometimes, if it's meant to happen again, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would be more than honored to prepare a noble ceremony for their departure. Better be quick, and offer them our buy one get one free special!"

⠀

⠀‣ Keqing

About The Creator

"Due to their return, people expect them to rule over Teyvat, which includes Liyue. People also pray to them for the minor inconvenients... *sigh* We can't rely on Gods for everything, we're perfectly capable to survive as our own, and Y/n don't seem convinced to govern alone, even before their death it was never said that the Creator was the one who ruled Teyvat, they simply enjoyed interacting with their creations."

⠀

⠀‣ Ningguang

About The Creator: Tour

"It is a great pleasure to welcome a such honorable guest into Liyue, especially when they were the one who helped us to save our nation. As the Tianquan I was more than glad to have the chance to make them visit the city, it was cute to see them insisting to pay even with no mora on them."

About The Creator: Consort

"I've heard people telling that I accepted their proposal to make my items more valuable and attract more persons to come and make deals in Liyue. In short, our marriage is just a business partnership and not an act of pure love. You... don't believe that, do you? Y/n is worth more than any amount of mora for me, and not because they're the Creator. I know I don't need to prove myself to anyone but I'm concerned if one day Y/n will listen to those rumors."

⠀

⠀‣ Qiqi

About The Creator

"I don't remember who this is... Sorry."

About Y/n

"Y/n is the one who gave me a finch, I named it just like them because they're both nice with me, so when I forgot one of them I just need to look at the other to remember... Uhh, who were we talking about?"

⠀

⠀‣ Shenhe

About The Creator: Disciple

"My family was from a clan of exorcists so they were followers of them, the clan sent prayers and asked for blessings when performing an exorcism. When my mother died, not only did my father abandon me but them too. Maybe that's why I became one of the Acolytes."

About The Creator: Consort

"My master insisted to meet Y/n, not only because they're the Creator but my partner, she wanted to meet the one who 'tamed my heart'. When they did meet, let's say both of their personalities didn't really match well together which gave... an interesting show, but at the end they agreed to share and listen to stories of my childhood..."

⠀

⠀‣ Xiangling

About The Creator

"They told me about dishes from their other world, just hearing about them makes my stomach growl, I'd love cook those dishes if they ever feel homesick, not only can food be delicious but bring warm feelings, and not just because it's hot! But I also love making them try food from here and they always seem to like and excited when I bring them a nice cooked meal!"

⠀

⠀‣ Xiao

About The Creator: Unusual

"They're a God, the oldest one, and yet their body and mind are just as weird and vulnerable as a human."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... Yes, about that. Could you help me with something? They always seem to care about me a lot, trying to heal me and making me food, even though I need none of this, but I heard it's expected to show gratitude to the person who cares about you. Since they act more like a human, I don't know what should I offer them. Flowers? Hm... Maybe something that gives me more work, picking up flowers isn't enough to thank them for everything they have done for me. Flowers crowns? I mean... I guess I can try to make one. You think that would make them smile if I had one too? Fine... Show me how to do it."

⠀

⠀‣ Xingqiu

About The Creator

"Ah, they're quite the difficult topic to avoid. My presence was required when my family invited them for a warm welcome to Liyue, I cannot say more as it was a private meeting, but I didn't imagine them with such a casual and clumsy personality, if you would have seen the faces of my father and brother, hehe... Just to say another meeting won't come anytime soon."

⠀

⠀‣ Xinyan

About The Creator

"Who'd think that someone like them would like my performance? Even better, they encourage it! I mean, that's understandable, staying with the most uptight persons and doing boring work all day... Can't even imagine the nightmare, they certainly got the rock 'n' roll's spirit!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yanfei

About The Creator

"Ah... Yes, I'm aware that because of their position we allow them more than we should, but it's not like anyone mind or they do anything bad, the worse that happened was them and Xinyan being a bit too loud. I've heard of a fireworks show in all of Inazuma and a wanted gang getting out of prison, but it's outside of my territory to talk furthermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Yaoyao

About The Creator

"They're always so heavily guarded, so you can always be sure they are in good health with no injuries, but I do worry about how they feel with being followed by people who watch your every move all day. So, whenever I see them, I ask how are they and I always have a ration of their favorite food with me. If you encounter them, tell hi from me and to take care!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yelan

About The Creator: Easy target

"If you knew the number of cases related to them, from little scammers to hitmen, there sure is a great variety. Since the Creator has a more powerful influence than strength, criminals think they are the perfect target for great sum of mora, but they sometimes underestimate a bit too much those close to the Creator and I'm not talking about the Millelith."

About The Creator: Consort

"Shh, not so loud. Surprised, aren't we? That means we're doing a good job at keeping it as a secret. I don't want to be known and blow up my cover, plus with the danger it can attract to them, so we can't announce it publicly but it's not that bad, seeing others thinking they have a chance with them is a funny show, unless Y/n feels uncomfortable, to this I'll attend to it personally when nobody is watching."

⠀

⠀‣ Yun Jin

About The Creator

" 'Through a simple whisper, thousands winds started to blow. Hands drew a river, rising waves emerged from the flow. Love was poured into the earth, and life began to grow~' Aren't these beautiful lyrics? There's a few operas about the Creator as we didn't know them much. We invited them but they appeared a bit embarrassed, which I can understand, so I try to sing tales that aren't about them and might fit their taste. I'm used to hear praises but their enthusiasm about my singing never fails to delight me."

⠀

⠀‣ Zhongli

About The Creator: Hopeful future

"I was surprised to hear about their reincarnation, especially about memories from another world. I had the occasions to talk to them, even if they may seem lost sometimes and lack experiences, the love they share for this world is real and the people around them returns this feeling, with a modern and ambitious mind like them, I'm sure the future of Teyvat will be bright."

About The Creator: Consort

"You want to know more about our contract? Well, our feelings for each other were mutual and we had the same promise which was to keep the other safe and happy, naturally we came to do the ultimate promise to stay together until death separates us, but I fear even this won't be able to break our contract, one that I shall forever cherish and respect. They're quite busy but I stay patient for them to come and see me when they finish with tea that I prepared for relaxing them after a stressful day."

@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

2K notes · View notes

txttletale · 3 months

Note

i appreciate what you’re saying abt drunk driving jokes being funny because they’re dark. like i enjoy a good 9/11 joke as much as the next guy. i just struggle to understand the delineation between what makes a dark subject “ok” to joke abt in circles that otherwise seem to have an understanding that some topics shouldn’t be joked about. like what makes rape a subject we (“we” being folks in aforementioned leftist circles) agree we shouldn’t make light of vs drunk driving? as someone who’s experienced trauma from both i just don’t get it (not trying to compare the two in terms of severity just trying to say idk why the negative impact of one is deemed more liable to be joked abt than the other). i agree it is on me to curate my Social Media Experience so i will block after this- genuinely no offense meant i otherwise like your content- just wanted to see if i could glean insight to a trend i have seen that bothers me personally

ime the main reason is simply that rape (and sexual violence) is just culturally more taboo than other forms of crime or violence. i also think that unlike drunk driving / arson / murder / 9/11 there is a very gendered dynamic to joking about rape which makes disentangling the concept from e.g. misogyny and homophobia very difficult and so makes joking about it more fraught from a, like, 'social justice' perspective than crimes which don't have those dynamics attached.

& perhaps there is also an element of, like, being aware of the profound level to which sexual violence is normalized and enshrined in our society that means that joking about it being Good is both less funny and more risky because there is a real social current that enshrines, protects, exonerates rapists -- the dril drunk driving tweet is funny because it registers as obviously ridiculous that anyone would ever think drunk driving has 'advantages', but if that same tweet was made about rape i think it would be uncomfortably close to the actual position of e.g. mainstream religious conservatism.

like, generally, the more 'real' a joke where you ironically pretend a bad thing is good--the more people actually think the thing you're saying--the less funny it is. (and to make sure i'm not being misconstrued, i'm obviously not saying that rape itself is more 'real' than drunk driving, murder, arson, terrorism, etc. -- rather than 'rape is Good actually' is a much more real actual political and social position than 'drunk driving / murder / arson/ terrorism is Good' are).

but idk these are all basically off-the-top-of-my-head hypotheses and might have nothing to do with it. enjoy your blogging experience & always have a nice time on the computer!

#ask #rape mention cw

236 notes · View notes

hadesrise · 1 year

Text

meet the addams.

previous part.

summary ➳ the bat family meets the addams family

pairings ➳ jason todd x addams!male reader

warnings ➳ fluff, strong language, pet names, hesitant bruce, weapons, typical addams family behavior ( homicide, dark humor, weird, etc ), jason and reader being a simp for each other, the addams being wholesome as always, implied reader’s atheism (i think the entire addams are atheist tbh), mention of torture

author’s note ➳ wow, hades updated !! shocking, i know. i'm sorry for the long hiatus and inactive, i wasn't okay and it was difficult for me to write when my mind was in such a messed up state. mental health can be a bitch, you know :D i'm trying to recover, and went back on writing again. hope this was a good comeback.

Letting his family meet you hadn’t crossed Jason’s mind at all until that very day when his annoying older brother caught him by the ice cream truck buying a dark chocolate and a mint chocolate flavored ice cream.

Dick was on officer duty patrol in undercover civilian clothes that afternoon, walking around the streets of Gotham in hopes of catching some shady business going around the city or just someone doing a simple act that goes against the law, being a good police officer that he is. Though, instead of seeing criminals like he assumed he would, his most rebellious little brother dressed in bad boy-ish clothes as usual buying ice creams caught his eyes.

He was supposed to walk right past since there really is no reason to approach Jason, but seeing him sit down next to a mysterious, old fashioned, well-dressed, expensive looking guy in all black with sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose and give the dark chocolate flavored ice cream to? Now, Dick certainly can’t walk past without knowing about you because he’s a little shit who just can’t help but stuck his nose into his brother’s business. That and, well, he also found you really cool. There’s not a thing in this world that can stop Dick Grayson from wanting to befriend someone who seems cooler than the Dark Knight himself.

So, in all his glory, Dick approached Jason with his usual charming smile dancing across his lips.

“Oh, god...” Jason groaned in annoyance as soon as he spotted the grinning male, rolling his eyes. Peace seems to never be an option whenever he takes you around the city for simple walks.

“Jason, are you uttering your all father’s name religiously or simply as an expression as of the moment?” Your elegant yet soothing, deep voice speaks out a sentence composed of well thought words and syllables, innocent curiosity behind the gentle tone.

Dick takes a mental note that your way of speaking sounded similar to the way humanity used to speak centuries ago, when everything was still old-fashioned and technologies hardly ever existed. It made him feel like you came from the past, as if he was witnessing the existence of a time traveler. Stopping in front of you two, he gives you a charming grin as soon as your eyes catches his. A hint of curiosity and wonder flashed within them behind the dark shades of your sunglasses before they were gone in an instant, replaced by a questioning look instead.

“May I help you?” You simply asked, but Dick doesn’t fail to notice the sudden drop in your previously soft tone and the piercing, calculated gaze holding wariness as well as subtle suspicion.

“Sorry, I’m Dick Grayson. I was curious about the person Jay’s hanging out with, I couldn’t help myself but approach.” He elaborates himself while trying his best to ensure he wasn’t a threat through body language, relaxing his figure. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out a little.”

Recognition flashed in your face, brows raising only barely to show subtle surprise, “Jason’s older brother. The name’s (Y/n) Addams. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You smiled, and even something just as simple as that looked graceful in Dick’s eyes.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, you were enchanting to look at as everything you do or say was captivating. How Jason managed to pull you was beyond him.

“Nice to meet you too,” He says back with a soft smile.

Even though his little brother hasn’t introduced you yet to their family, at least you seemed to know about them. Hopefully, nothing unpleasant has been said, but Dick doubts Jason would hide his trauma from you, considering how he was leaning to your side now subconsciously, as if being away from you will bring back awful memories.

He was worried about his practically traumatized-for-life little brother living alone, but it appears he didn’t have to worry at all.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” Jason more of grumbled, annoyed that your date has been interrupted. Almost automatically, one of your hands move to settle itself on his thigh to give it a gentle and soothing rub to ease his growing annoyance, while the other held your dark chocolate ice cream that you had begun eating with clean manners. He relaxed in an instant after feeling your touch.

“I think you should introduce (Y/n) to our family, Jay.” Dick suggests with enthusiasm that didn’t match Jason’s, not really answering his question. “They would want to know who you’re going out with. We can all have a dinner together!” There was excitement shining in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain nonchalant despite his body language practically screaming excited.

Your lover groans, “Why the hell do they have to know who I’m going out with?”

Amusement crosses your face as you smirked, licking off the small bits of ice cream that got on your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I’m certain my family will be more than happy to meet them.” Jason gives you a look, to which you responded with an innocent smile. “Oh, mon amour. What could go wrong? I have been looking forward to meet your family, but you’ve never considered to bring me there. It’s a little concerning how you seem too hesitant to let them meet me.” You pout, feigning sadness.

Your lover widens his eyes, panic appearing in them as he gripped your hand that was on his thigh after realizing what you were implying. “That’s not what it looks like, babe! I just don’t want you to meet them ‘cause they can be a bit unbearable. Bruce is the worst person you could ever meet,” He scrunched his nose. “It’s not you I don’t want them to meet, it’s them I don’t want you to meet. There’s a difference. You’re never the problem.”

You chuckled at his quick attempt of elaboration.

Jason feels his cheeks redden at how deeply elegant and amazing your laugh sounded; it never fails to make his heart go haywire even after all this time. You manage to effortlessly make him fall in love with you deeper and deeper every day without even meaning to.

“Worry not, darling. I was just teasing you. I’m far from upset.” Reassuring him, your hand gently cups his cheek to rub the skin comfortingly. “Let me meet them once you’ve gotten rid of your doubts completely, my Jason. It isn’t necessary to rush.” You then let go of his face to push some of his hair away from his forehead before leaning back to continue eating the ice cream.

Dick witnessed a starstruck smile spread across Jason’s lips in an instant, the way his expression was so soft when looking at you, how his emerald eyes that usually held pent-up rage towards the world sparks brightly in love and adoration.

Huh. He’s never seen his brother this happy and content.

Maybe you are Jason’s one true love.

“Dick,” Jason calls out after watching you eat your ice cream with a barely hidden happiness. You looked happy to meet one of his family even though you haven’t said anything, and he was willing to throw away his pride if it meant making you happy.

“Hm?” Dick hummed, smiling when Jason glanced at you and looked back at him.

“Tell the others.”

That was all he needed to let out the excitement he was holding in, beaming at you two. “Right away, little bird!” He doesn’t waste a time to pull his phone out of his pocket, “I’m going then. It was nice meeting you, (Y/n). I’ll text you when!” He waved his hand and walked away, already dialling Bruce’s number.

Jason watched him go incredulously. “Did he just come here to convince me to introduce you?”

You chuckle under your breath, “Perhaps. Your brother has sorted out his priorities well.” However, a frown appears on your lips when you turned to Jason. “Do you genuinely feel comfortable letting my family meet them? We could always cancel, mon amour. There are many other fascinating activities we can bother ourselves with.”

Jason felt his heart swell at your gentle tone and concerned eyes, making him feel loved in many different ways. You don’t even realize that you’re slowly healing his troubled heart with simple things like this. He already knows you love him more than the Guillotine itself (which is a really big deal since nothing except him could ever beat your love for it) as you’ve always told him before, but the way you treat him, talk to him, and look at him just adds so much weight on your words. You don’t just tell him you love him — you show it in the most perfect, best, casual ways.

Intertwining his hand with yours, he brought it up to rest on his chest, hiding how overwhelmed he was with the love for you. “Like what, sweetheart?” Faint amusement laced his tone as he already knew the answer.

“Like slicing or shooting criminals, of course.” You winked before bringing your intertwined hands to press a kiss on his knuckles.

Jason laughs, and you admired the way he threw his head back to let the sound escape. “Knew you would say that!” He wheezed, before calming down to kiss your knuckles just like you did to his. “But it’s really fine, (Y/n). I want to introduce you and your family to mine.” His expression then turns apologetic, “ ‘m sorry if it seemed like I was keeping you in the shadows.”

You shake your head and leaned in to capture his lips in a peck, a gesture to let him know you didn’t mind. “If you were keeping me in the shadows, we wouldn’t be having a date out in the open where any of your family can see me. Don’t be apologetic, chéri. I’m nowhere near upset.”

Letting a smile break out, Jason leans in to kiss you more longer this time before pulling away.

Just like that, you both sat on the bench and ate ice creams in comfortable silence, holding each other’s hand.

Dick, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie all stood in front of the Wayne Manor with barely contained excitement, waiting for the infamous Addams family and Jason to show up.

Dick was mainly looking forward for his family to see the side of Jason no one had ever seen before, Tim was occasionally standing on his tiptoes to see if any car was nearing, and Damian was keeping himself still but his body practically trembled with excitement due to being a fan of your vigilante persona for a long time. Barbara had a smile on her face with a hint of nervousness, while Cassandra and Stephanie talked to each other to calm their nerves.

Even without research, the Addams family was quite the celebrity family in Gotham because of their richness that seemed to tie with Bruce Wayne, but moreover, they were rather infamous for being “weird” and gothic as those experts for minding businesses that aren’t their own paparazzi claimed. The Wayne family didn’t really need to dive into the deepest parts of internet in their computer; one newspaper — with the front cover of five people with gothic outfits standing in front of the big ass almost-castle-house — dedicated entirely to the weird family already helped.

Only thing they needed to research about was you, and surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to find information about your vigilantism — which is how all of them realized not only was Jason dating the person Damian idolizes more than his own father, but also the one who brutally tortured and straight-up dumped Joker into Arkham Asylum. Needless to say, it kinda made sense to them that Jason’s dating you, though Bruce wasn’t pleased.

The gates being opened to a black limousine caught their attention, making Cass and Steph break their conversation to watch the car drive closer before eventually stopping in front of them. A butler, who took them by surprise due to his seemingly inhuman looks similar to the Frankenstein monster, got out to open the door.

A man wearing a black suit with white stripes was the first to come out of the limousine as he smiles cheerfully at them, helping his wife to step out. Cassandra’s jaw dropped at the beautiful woman with black, long and silky hair who gives them an enchanting, almost hypnotizing smile.

Next to step out were a boy wearing black and white striped shirt and a girl who had her hair braided on two sides. The boy gave them an all too adorable friendly smile, but his sister only held a blank face as she observed each of the Wayne members. Finally, Jason got out together with you, all of them noticing your intertwined hands.

Your lover raised his brows, “Why are you all here?”

“Well, Bruce said we didn’t have to, but we wanted to welcome you here.” Dick shrugged, nodding at you. “Good to see you again, (Y/n).”

“Likewise, Dick.” You smile. “Greetings, ladies, gentlemen. The name’s (Y/n). This are my parents Gomez and Morticia,” Your parents greet them with a nod and friendly smile. “And my siblings Wednesday and Pugsley.” Pugsley waves his hand, enthusiastic to meet Jason’s family, while Wednesday crosses her arms above her chest and simply nods without a word.

Dick was grinning at your siblings because of their adorableness, not even the slightest bit bothered by Wednesday’s lack of emotion. Cassandra and Tim were gawking at Gomez and Morticia, how they seem so perfect and gorgeous, not only each on their own but together as well. Stephanie and Barbara beamed at you while Damian observed Wednesday and Pugsley, but there wasn’t any hint of malice or bad intention in his eyes — just curiosity. The Addams family sure are good looking individuals.

“Uh — hi,” Tim was the first to speak out of the Wayne’s, awkwardly waving his hand because of the fact he felt as if the Addams were ethereal beings due to their beauty. “You... You all look beautiful. I’m surprised.”

Wednesday’s brows raised as you tilted your head slightly to the side, looking confused. Morticia and Gomez exchanges a glance from not knowing what to say, while Pugsley smiled nicely at Tim despite the truth of being called beautiful feels like an insult. Yours and your family’s reaction immediately worried the Wayne children; none of you seemed pleased or happy with the compliment Tim gave, in fact, you kind of looked offended.

Seeing his siblings getting worried that they might’ve done something wrong, Jason clears his throat to catch everyone’s attention and successfully did so. “What he means is you all look deadly and loathsome. He wasn’t trying to offend you in any way, he just isn’t used to our ways of compliment.” He elaborated with a genuine look, and his siblings looked taken aback that he seemed really calm and gentle with you and your family. Jason have always had anger issues; his rage was explosive everywhere he goes and the main victims of it were criminals, but sometimes it was directed entirely at Bruce because of their unpleasant history.

He was never known as a calm person even in the family. Always seemed on edge, like a walking bomb that’s ticking every second, unknown by people how to stop it from exploding so suddenly. However, as Jason stands with you holding your hand tightly, his entire demeanor was almost completely different from what his family was used to. He was as calm as a wind that caresses the Mother Nature so softly in fear of disturbing her and as gentle as anyone who holds a little kitten in their hands — there was no ticking time bomb, just a soft man caring and pouring his heart and love out to his awesome lover. Jason looked comfortable around you and your family, extremely to the point that he hadn’t noticed practically calling himself an Addams. It made his siblings’ hearts swell with happiness.

“Oh,” Morticia sighed in relief, and even just that felt and looked so heavenly. “We’re sorry, my dear. We weren’t aware of that. I was afraid you found us tolerable.”

Tim chuckles, not really knowing what to say. He was visibly confused, though from what he was able to pick up on, negative comments seems to be taken as positive ones in your family. While most of them were confused just like Tim, Damian quickly understood how compliments worked within the Addams and smirked fondly.

Dick finally gathers his thoughts to clear his throat, “Well, let’s go in now, shall we?”

As your family nodded in sync, you turn to Jason while fixing your collar with the empty hand. “Love, do I look menacing? I have to look presentable when meeting your father. I despise looking good.” You stated, checking your outfit and trying to fix where you found unpresentable.

It’s rare to see you fidgeting and uneasy, making Jason smile. He knew you lose your composure only when it comes to him and it made him feel so loved, appreciated, and important. “You always look menacing, babe. Could scare off any children that passes by.” He compliments, bringing up your intertwined hands and kissing the back of yours.

The corner of your lips twitched up, squeezing his hand back as amusement and adoration shows themselves on your expression. “That’s very lovely. This is why I loathe you.”

The flirting between you and Jason was so natural that even Damian wasn’t affected by it — he’s mostly disgusted and cringed out when people flirt in front of him, but for some reason, Jason flirting with you didn’t bother him at all. Perhaps, because it isn’t a modern type of flirting where couples show disgusting amount of PDA or say things halfheartedly just to make their partner feel good, but rather, it’s one that uses old-fashioned yet romantic language which truthfully comes from the heart. You and Jason flirt with respect for each other, where neither of you objectify nor sexualize the other.

There was a clear unspoken understanding between you, which was shown in just this little flirtatious moment. The way you show your love for each other might be old-fashioned and out of ordinary in this modern day, but it’s honestly more romantic than any of the modernized ones.

“You two always flirt,” Wednesday spoke as she swiftly turned around to meet yours and Jason’s eyes. “It would’ve been more perfect if you were holding a human heart and giving it to each other.”

Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie all widened their eyes at her opinion — is she telling you to kill someone, take their heart out, and give it to each other to show your love? That wouldn’t be a romance anymore; it’ll be a dark romance.

However, you only shrugged your shoulders while Jason chuckled in amusement, as if that comment was as normal as seeing trees and nature everywhere. Neither of you were even concerned with what Wednesday said. “There’s precisely a possibility of that occurring, though it’s not yet now.” You responded calmly, as expressionless as Wednesday but slight amusement littered your tone.

The others tensed at your statement with the exception of Damian, who only smirked in pride, as they all remember the news of Joker getting dumped into Arkham Asylum by a vigilante that isn’t Batman. Like mentioned before, Joker was in a really bad shape when he was quite literally thrown into the Asylum, very visible signs of torture coating his body everywhere.

When Bruce visited, it was worse than how the media portrayed it to be. Tongue cut off, fingers broken and two missing, heavily concussed, several cuts along his face and body, and bruises covering most of his body parts. Worst of it all was that Joker didn’t seem like himself anymore; he does laugh — never had been a time when Joker didn’t laugh — but it wasn’t his typical laughter. All the mockery, self-confidence and cockiness weren’t there. Instead, fear and paranoia filled the laughter Bruce was so used to hearing. It was so uncharacteristic and very unlikely of Joker.

He’s finally put behind bars for good, but how the fuck can a vigilante absolutely destroy the Joker? He was indestructible yet you managed to break him so bad that his insanity got flooded with immense fear rather than the urge to kill everyone and everybody for no reason.

And as they stand in front of you now, none of them can even imagine how such a gentleman like you could’ve broke him completely. You seem so respectful, sweet, gentleman, and lovely that it’s almost impossible to believe you were the one who did it. But everyone should always expect the unexpected, right?

“Dick,” Jason’s voice snaps the oldest boy out of his own thoughts as he nods his head towards the door. “Let’s go in.”

The Grayson only hummed, turning around to open the door and gesture inside with his other hand, bowing a little to show respect. Morticia and Gomez smiled pleasantly and brightly, touched by his manners as they enter. Wednesday followed next with a usual expressionless face, and Pugsley said “thank you” first before entering, then Jason pulled you along with him at last. The door closed behind Damian who was the last to enter.

“Welcome,” Bruce immediately greeted as soon as all of your eyes met his, and your parents doesn’t hesitate to smile respectfully and kindly at him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” Gomez steps forward with his hand extended to shake Bruce’s hand before gesturing to his wife standing beside him. “She’s my wife Morticia and these are my children. Perhaps, you already know about (Y/n)?”

Bruce’s unreadable gaze shift from your father to you, attempting to figure out your characteristics by just looking. However, despite the nervousness you’re feeling, you didn’t fail to compose yourself and appeal confident with the usual emotionless expression on your face. Your gaze sparkling darkly under the light made him feel uneasy somehow, as if you knew all of his dirty little secrets and his entire characteristics as well as personality and attitude without analyzing that much.

Truth be told, you heard Bruce’s attitude from Jason when he opened himself up to you. Your Beloved was extremely traumatized by what happened with Joker that it affected the way he saw the world; it should’ve been that way too with Bruce because he’s Jason’s adoptive father — yet what really happened was the complete opposite.

Bruce may not have had an ill intent of dismissing or ignoring what happened to Jason, but to continue living like Joker didn’t kill his second son made him unlikable on your list. You’re a very respectful person as Gomez and Morticia didn’t raise you to be an awful entity, and you would never want to go against your lover’s adoptive father — although, that does not mean you accept his morals.

Hiding the unsettled feeling building up in his stomach, Bruce attempts to smile at you and shake your hand. “So you’re (Y/n). I’ve only ever heard once about you.”

Only the corner of your lips twitched, a barely formed smile appearing as you shake his hand, eyes still piercing through him like a dagger. “And I’ve heard a lot of... things about you, Mr. Wayne.” The calculative tone in your voice set an alarm within Bruce’s head and he would’ve pulled his hand away from your grasp if it wasn’t for his conscious mind forcing himself to calm down. “Be not afraid — You’ll see no judgement here.” You gave him a pointed look.

Jason quickly goes behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, the soft look on him being noticed by everyone present in the room. “Babe, let’s have dinner first. You’ll absolutely love Alfred’s cooking. They’re hella tasty.” He compliments, winking at Alfred who stood at the side. Alfred smiled with gratitude.

Bruce notices the way a small bit of light shine on your dead-like eyes as soon as you looked at Jason. “Well then, may we?” You shift your soft gaze from Jason to Bruce as you tilt your head slightly to the side.

From then on, the peaceful dinner began with mainly your parents and Bruce sharing thoughts about their own children while the others watch with a smile as Damian starts a conversation with you, the one he idolizes the most. It’s surprising to see Damian being really talkative — for the first time ever, he was being an actual child, asking you questions after questions with his eyes sparkling in joy. Not wanting to ruin this seemingly precious moment for Damian, everyone just decided to listen and chime in only once in a while when they feel like it. You were extremely patient with Damian the entire time he was bombarding you with questions, answering all of them without getting annoyed.

Jason felt relieved to witness the dinner going smoothly.

Truth be told, he was secretly worried about it turning into a disaster due to your vigilantism — Jason knew how Bruce felt about you after realizing you were the unnamed vigilante that nearly killed the Joker, and he thought Bruce would bring it up right away soon as dinner started. Luckily, he didn’t. It made Jason sigh in relief and relax on his seat, smiling as he watched you talk with his siblings.

However, perhaps it was too soon.

“(Y/n), how long have you been a vigilante?”

Jason immediately froze at Bruce’s question. The chit-chatting within the dining hall quickly falls into silence as everyone, too, froze — except the Addams family, who were still eating calmly and quietly, unbothered.

You first swallowed the food you were chewing before wiping your mouth elegantly with a napkin and not even hesitating to meet Bruce’s piercing eyes. “Since I was a child, Mr. Wayne.” You answered simply.

Bruce leans on the table, taking it slow. “Why did you become one?”

You felt Jason squeezing your hand under the table, as if to say you don’t have to answer everything. Though, you still did. “One of our ancestors was a vigilante, although he was hanged alongside his wife’s burning body when a rumour spread that she was a witch. He’s quite the legend within our family, you see.” Dick, Stephanie and Barbara’s jaws dropped. “I could say I was inspired by him. Although the sole purpose of my vigilantism is to bring justice to those who were rejected, neglected, and ignored by our unpleasantly ridiculous, worthless justice system.”

Feeling nervousness radiate off of Jason from how he squeezed your hand even more strongly, you gently hold and knead his hand to give him relaxation. After he stopped squeezing and slightly calmed down, you readjusted his hand so your and his fingers would intertwine with each other. You could feel him staring, but you never avoided eye contact with Bruce.

“To bring justice...” The Billionaire trails off meaningfully, as if it was something he wasn’t expecting to hear from you. “Was that your way of bringing justice?” The sharpness in his tone clearly gave everyone an idea of what he’s talking about.

However, despite the tension thickening and Bruce’s eyes narrowing in judgment, you kept your composure with an expressionless face, nerves surprisingly as calm as water flows. There wasn’t anything you were feeling at the moment, just the patience you need to deal with Jason’s shallow-minded father.

“I’m most definitely certain yours and my understanding of justice varies.” You immediately responded without missing a beat. Bruce’s eyes pierced through you, but your (e/c) eyes were much worse. It was reading him thoroughly, looking into his soul, his mind, feeling as if you knew everything.

“Though, I must admit for everyone’s knowledge, just so no one is left unaware — I tortured Joker not to seek justice for my lover, but to feed my vengeance and urge to revenge.” Your dark eyes glinted in amusement under the lights as the confession slips from your mouth with no restraints, like you’re just talking about nonchalant things. That’s not the only thing that made a cold shiver run down everyone’s spine; it was also the way your supposedly expressionless face completely shifted for the first time only to form a dark, prideful, egotistical look, accompanied by a smirk which obviously stated you weren’t regretful.

Now, there’s no way Bruce would take it lightly.

Sensing the events had turned out more worrisome, Jason tries to tug on your intertwined hands. “(Y/n), sweetheart, we should—”

Your cold gaze avert towards him, and it softened only a bit. “Apologies for interrupting you, my love, but leaving our dinner without finishing them would be disrespect to the person who cooked them for us.” You placed a gentle kiss on the back of Jason’s hand to assure him. “Worry not so much. Your father and I are only getting to know one another.”

As soon as your cold and piercing eyes returned to him, Bruce immediately feels an unsettling feeling in his gut as his heartbeat quickens. He could see it’s easy for you to deal with him or this kind of confrontation — the dangerous thing he noticed about you is that you never lose composure and patience regardless if the situation at hand benefits you or not. The only time you’ve probably ever lost your collectedness was with Joker, whom you actually had every right to get absolutely livid at. You love Jason more than words could ever tell, Bruce can easily see that, but your actions not lining up with his morals made it difficult for him to accept you willingly.

While the Addams simply minded their own business by continuing to eat, the others couldn’t find it in themselves to act like there was no tension rising in the air. They knew this confrontation was coming, but witnessing it unfold before their own eyes isn’t easy. Most of them had to swallow the lump that formed in their throat, with Damian being the only one who isn’t nervous in the slightest.

“Mr. Wayne, I have a deep understanding of your morals and the regulations you’ve set in this home... how none of your family is allowed to kill criminals.” You stated with a smile that was barely visible, though respectful nonetheless. However, it instantly vanishes. “But I must remind you one thing — just because you believe your morals are correct does not make it righteous in any way.”

That certainly struck a core in Bruce.

“We, humans, are incapable of finding the correct morals that all of humanity would agree on. You may believe your morals are absolute and there could be a wonderful soul who has developed the same belief as you, but it would never be everyone.” Your hand gracefully gestures to the people in the dining room to emphasize your point before it comes to rest on the table as you intertwine it with your other hand. “You see, humans are not humans without distinctive differences, and pushing your own standards on others likely causes more harm than it should help put them in control.”

The way you’ve said every word with such grace and elegance was nothing but fascinating as everyone found themselves suddenly voiceless. Your every gesture and movement showed an exquisite manner no other human beings were blessed with, alongside your use of sophisticated language that silently told your high level of intelligence. Other than that, Bruce was speechless from how much your words contained truth and wisdom only a philosopher has. He had never seen nor met someone so wise as you.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re so intimidating — every bit of your intelligence and attitude is your very own power no one else could ever have.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce clears his throat to find his voice and meets your eyes. “Are you implying I should accept how different yours and my morals are?”

“Precisely,” You answered without hesitation, sipping the wine Jason had poured for you when the dinner started. “My morality is concerned with the victims, not the perpetrators nor myself. Your morality is concerned with your inability to control your murderous urges when committed.” Bruce inhales sharply, making your eyes glint since he proved you right.

Gomez and Morticia smile to themselves as they felt proud of how you’re always able to point out things others usually don’t or can’t. Despite your brutal honesty, there is clearly respect within the way you speak to Bruce, which is why neither of them stopped you from defending and proving yourself. Helping you was not in their options; they knew you can handle yourself perfectly fine with the number of times you’ve put people in their place physically or verbally.

“(Y/n), baby... It’s okay,” Jason quietly attempts to stop you, knowing those words were intentionally spoken to strike a nerve in his non-biological father.

He knew how your blood boiled when you found out Bruce didn’t kill the Joker because of his ridiculous morality. He can still remember the way your eyes always darkened at even the slightest mention of Batman or Bruce Wayne. It took two years for you to overcome your wrath on the billionaire before you went after the Joker.

Before you could respond to your lover, Bruce caught your attention again with a simple question — “Why did you do it?”

You look back at him, seeing him staring at you and waiting for an answer. The corner of your lips lifted. “Well, wouldn’t we do anything for love?” Bruce's brows raised at the warm look on your face, not knowing your face was capable of making such expression. “No one hurts my soul and live freely without heavy consequences.” You shrugged, looking heavily smug.

Wednesday scoffed, “You should’ve just put a curse on him. It would have saved you all the trouble and exhaustion.” She looked at you as if what you did was the most incorrect thing in the world.

“No, should’ve electrocuted him!” Said Pugsley with a grin. “It didn’t make me insane when Wednesday did it to me, but it could break his mind.” Everyone’s face shifted into a look of shock at the sudden revelation.

“Now now, children.” Morticia interrupts, “What (Y/n) does to his enemies should be decided by him and him only. You don’t decide for (Y/n).”

“Well, Joker hurt Jason and he’s our brother. Nobody hurts my brothers and lives.” Wednesday responded immediately with empty eyes seeking vengeance, stabbing the steak with a fork and making Dick, Tim and Stephanie flinch.

You threw a knife at her with a single flick of your wrist, just narrowly missing her face, stabbing the wall behind her. She doesn’t flinch and instead gives you a look, which you ignore and reach for another knife to cut your steak with. “Manners, Wednesday. If you wish to stab something, search for someone that would be worthy of it, not a supper.”

“You missed on purpose,” Wednesday complains, annoyed.

You sarcastically smile, “Perhaps, I wouldn’t intentionally miss again if you’re respectful towards a supper.”

She glared, “Miss again and I’ll dump you in a paint full of pastels.”

You just rolled your eyes at her tactics while Jason bursts into laughter, knowing how much you and your family hate pastels. To the Addams, pastels and joyful people are the most insufferable matters in the world. There’s nothing you all hate more than that.

His father and brothers couldn’t believe what happened in front of them. None of the Addams, even Jason, cared that you just threw a knife at Wednesday. In fact, your parents were far from concerned as they only watched with warm smiles on their faces, because truthfully that was just you and Wednesday bickering. It’s nothing serious although others might disagree.

“Apologies for our children, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia says casually after Wednesday had returned to eating her dinner, making Bruce turn to look at her. “They’ve always bickered even when they were just a child. (Y/n) and Wednesday in particular, they liked to attempt burning each other alive ever since hearing the story of one of our ancestors who got burned at the Salem Witch Trials. Children love those stories, you know.” She places a hand on her chest, right above her heart, smiling at her children.

“Wait, hold on— You tried to burn each other alive?” Dick was the one who questioned what everyone couldn’t find their voices to ask about, too shocked and horrified that attempting to kill each other seems so natural and normal within the Addams family.

“Yes, for the record.” You answer without looking up. “Being burned alive is classified as the most painful, agonizing way to die, which is why it had been the perfect punishment for those who were accused of witchcraft in 1692 and 1693. My sister and I were intrigued to see whether this was a fact or just merely false information, so we would always attempt to burn each other in hopes of discovering the truth.”

“Funny thing is, they never did.” Jason cackles as Wednesday shot him an unamused look. “(Y/n) still wishes he could die being burned alive, though.”

The corner of your lips merely twitched in a soft smile as you kissed the back of Jason’s hand affectionately, eyes closed. “Have I ever mentioned I want you to do the honor?” You say with such a loving and adoring tone that Jason felt his heart swell, knowing this is somewhat a proposal that only an Addams would understand.

It was a traditional Addams way of showing they love the person rather than wrapping it up in just three words that rarely comes from the bottom of one’s heart. You would die for him, and only he could bring your ultimate demise, no one else. You were offering him your heart and soul, as well as life, permitting him to hold and treasure it for the rest of your lives. It was an implication that you would dedicate your life to him with nothing in return — you will do everything for him. It’s easy to kill — you’ve nearly done it with the Joker — but it’s not easy to live and die for him, but you will and you would.

Feeling overwhelmed with all the love you endlessly give and show, Jason couldn’t help but hide behind his empty hand in an attempt to hold his tears in, always being emotional whenever he gets the love he doesn’t think he deserves. But he does. You’ve never failed to show him he deserves everything you offer. God, how did he even end up with you? You’re so good to him, so loving and giving, Jason didn’t even expect you’ll be like this back when you two were just strangers building friendship. Jason can’t let you go anymore, and he would never even if you asked him to. He loves you just as much as you love him, although yours seem bigger than his.

The Wayne family witnessed Jason, the usually insufferable Todd who thrives off of violence, cry at the mere love and affection his lover gave. Jason was crying because you reminded him of how significant he was to your life. The big bad wolf, the ruthless Red Hood, the boy who had an immense thirst for vengeance, the boy whose blood is filled with utmost rage towards the world, was crying at the simple showcase of love.

And that’s how Bruce — no, his entire family — knew they failed to love him enough.

But they don’t have to make it up to him anymore. They can’t, because you’re already showering him with love and adoration and appreciation and everything he deserves. You did everything what they were supposed to do — what Bruce was supposed to do.

“Oh, mon amour...” You let go of his hand to gently hold his face with both hands, kissing away the tears that overflowed from his eyes. Jason stayed still, relishing how good you are, how soft you treated him as he gripped your gentle hands. Once you’re done kissing his tears away, he buried his face into your chest while wrapping his arms around you, embracing tightly. You kiss the top of his head, caging him in your arms as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

Jason closes his eyes within your embrace, inhaling your calming scent mixed with a cooling hint of cologne. It’s funny how you’ve always associated yourself with death and darkness, yet for Jason, your mere presence is a light at the end of the tunnel that makes him alive every day. “Thank you, (Y/n)...” He murmurs into your chest, barely audible, but heard by you nonetheless.

You gently scratch his scalp, not caring about your meals and attention solely focused on your lover. “For what exactly, chéri? I have not done anything for you to give me such gratitude, at least not that I remember. I have only been attempting to drown you in my love and affection, haven’t I? Are they worthy of your gratitude?”

He chuckled, “You know damn well they are.”

You tilt your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Even so, do you truly believe it’s significant for me more than just your presence?” Jason slowly looks up at you, his mesmerizing eyes meeting yours, before shaking his head quietly. A satisfied look crosses your face at that, “There you go. It isn’t difficult to figure out now, is it?” Jason shakes his head, burying his face into your chest once again.

As you continue to comfort Jason, Damian stares at the sight with a weird look. “Todd is extremely quiet when he’s around (Y/n). It’s... weird.”

Dick nudged him, “Hey, let him be. Jay’s probably just very comfortable with him.”

“It’s still weird, though.” Tim insists.

Barbara and Stephanie watched with smiles while you kiss Jason’s forehead, too willing to accept you despite finding your family quite strange. People have different traditions and cultures anyway; they figured yours are just too extraordinary and unusual that don’t fit society’s standards. Being different doesn’t matter when it’s clear that you love Jason too much, in your own special way.

Cassandra glances at Bruce, who seemed to be in deep thought. “I don’t think you have any other choice but to accept him.” Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “Look at them. They’re very much in love. More than in love, I’d say. It looks like they were meant to be with each other. Like destiny’s the one who wrote them together.”

Bruce looked at the two of you, who obviously saw nothing but each other in your little world.

“Besides, he basically called bullshit on your morals. And you know all too well he’s beyond right.” Cassandra smirks, “I hope your pride doesn’t get in the way of welcoming a new member, dad.”

Bruce sighed.

Well, it’s inevitable that you’ll be a member one way or another. Cassandra was right about that, and although he didn’t want to admit it, Bruce knew he accepted you the moment you stood up against him. It’s not always there’s someone who is brave enough to speak up against the Bruce Wayne.

Though, he may have to teach you not to strangle literally every single person who mess with Jason.

2K notes · View notes

daphnasworld · 2 months

Text

I have enough of those fucking racist "it's just anti-zionism, I'm not antisemitic or racist" assholes.

If you would only have a problem with Israels politics, that would be fine. Nothing wrong with that. But if people have to be afraid in fucking europe or america to openly show that they are jewish, to visit a Synagoge, to speak hebrew or to tell you that they or their parents were born in Israel, than that is not just because of critique of a countries political decisions - it's because of racism and antisemitism.

If you only had a problem with Israels politics you wouldn't get angry upon hearing someone speak hebrew. A moslem palestinian, born in the west bank now living in germany, wouldn't have to be afraid to speak hebrew on german streets. Yes, you heard that right. I know a moslem palestinian that now lives in germany. He and his siblings speak multiple languages, one of them being hebrew. The language they know who the least people here in germany understand is hebrew. So when he and his siblings are outside and want to talk about something without people understanding them, they talk to each other in hebrew. They can't talk to each other in hebrew anymore since october 7th, because so called pro-palestinians would start to harass and attack them on open street, calling them all sorts of names (zionist, nethanyahoe, bitch, murderer,...) and claim that they support genocide. Yes, they would literally attack actual palestinians, whose parents still live in the west bank, simply for speaking hebrew. (Btw they regularily visit their family there. They fly to Israel, rent a car and then drive to the westbank. They say they never had a problem with the idf, only the (illegal) settlers in the westbank were problematic. ).

If you are only against a countries politics than you won't feel the need to erase a whole religious group. If you feel the need to claim that Jesus was palestinian instead of saying that he had been a judean jew you are erasing jews. If you feel the need to put a palestinian sticker over the star of david that is seen on Amy Winehouse statue in camden market you are erasing jews (yes, if you haven't heard: Amy Winehouse, a JEWISH woman, has a statue of her on camden market. Her statue is wearing a necklace with a star of david. The star of david may be on the israeli flag, but it is also a kind of religious symbol for the jews. So she - as the statue - isn't wearing it as a symbol for Israel, but as a symbol for judaism. And someone put a palestine sticker over the star of david. Which makes it antisemitic, not anti-zionist).

If you feel the need to draw or repost pictures of superman or captain america ripping the israeli flag or wearing the palestinian flag while knowing that both characters had been created by jewish men and as symbols against the Nazis AND antisemitism, than that too is a form of erasure of jews (And also blatantly disrespectful. If you don't think that superman or captain america would have immediately tried to save the israeli hostages, than you really don't know these characters).

And how could you be anything but racist when you claim that black people can't be jewish or israeli just because of the color of their skin?!

And if you were for an actual ceasefire, than you would also be angry at hamas for repeatedly rejecting ceasefire deals made by Israel and egypt. You would be angry at hamas for breaking the ceasefire on october 7th. If you only ever look at israel while demanding a ceasefire, you are not actually demanding a ceasefire. A ceasefire would mean that everyone would have to stop shooting. What you are demanding is for Israel to cease fire, while Hamas is allowed to continue to shoot rockets. That is in fact racist and antisemitic (looking at you Mark Ruffalo). Also I don't think that demanding the release of hostages - including children! - is too much. If you believe that the demand of the release of an one year old or an 18 year old is too much, than I don't believe that you actually care for one single child in Gaza.

If you are saying that Hitler was right or are okay with your friends saying that, than how can you be anything else but a racist? Everyone knows that Hitler and the Nazis were huge racists. Those are facts. So by logic if you think they were right than you think that racism is right. Than you think that antisemitism is right.

And yes, claiming that all Israelis are settlers or colonizers or white is racist and antisemitic. Claiming that jews should "go back to europe" is racist and antisemitic. Claiming that Israel isn't a real country is just stupid. If you have to even change other nations or peoples history simply so that your arguments against Israel are "valid" than you are a racist and an antisemite and an idiot.

Yes, claiming you don't trust jews in general is antisemitic and racist.

Yes, claiming that there are no civilians in Israel is racist, antisemitic and stupid. What else can a fucking newborn be?!

If you are not a racist and not an antisemite, then people wouldn't have to be afraid to tell you that they are jews. People then wouldn't have to be afraid of wearing a kippah or a necklace with the star of david on it. They wouldn't have to be afraid of speaking hebrew. They wouldn't have to be afraid of booking a fucking hotel room when they have a jewish sounding name or an israeli passport.

Stop pretending to be against racism if you have no problem with jews being afraid simply because they are jewish.

Stop pretending to be a good person if you enjoy someone being afraid because they are jewish.

Stop pretending.

Finally start being the good person you claim to be.

#antisemitism #i/p #i stand with israel #racism #stop racism #amy winehouse #captain america #superman #stan lee #jerry siegel #joe shuster #joe simon #jack kirby

227 notes · View notes

ladyempty · 15 days

Text

Yan! Alicent x Stepson! Reader

° | !English is not my first language. Sorry! |

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

Alicent knew her feelings were wrong, but she just couldn't help it. It was a burning fire contained for so long that it continued to spread despite his efforts and countless prayers.

She knew that the seven would punish her for her unforgivable sins. Coveting another man besides her husband, and to make matters worse a young man she should welcome as good mother.

His stepson, who already aroused a guilty interest in her even before the recent degree of kinship formed by his marriage. Your stepson always so kind and courteous, who never refused taking to the skies with his dragon accompanied by his younger sister, much to Alicent's great fear and slight jealousy, but he also never stopped listening to her when she had something to say

You just seemed to be perfect in every aspect of the word and with a beauty that could be compared to the Gods. Shaped by the gentle hands of father and mother, far from the treacherous claws of the stranger.

The sadness she felt at Rhaenyra's growing estrangement was nothing compared to the pain she felt when you looked at her with the most disappointed look she had ever seen.

The one look of betrayal that seems like it would always be marked in your mind like a scar.

She was doomed her by desiring him intimately in a way that could only belong to her husband.

The mere thought of someone so kind, in her eyes, being considered a work of temptation just seemed the greatest absurdity she had ever heard.

But his feelings were not simply limited to impure desire. It was something sweet, as sweet as you. Innocent, budding and blooming in a bright green field.

And this served as his moral and religious relief. It wasn't lust after all. It was love, passion, something she had never felt for anyone before.

Alicent never knew anything could be like this. This heat in your chest, these feelings so big that they barely seem to fit inside your slender body. It just felt like at any moment everything was going to explode. That the heart would force itself out of your mouth and fall at your feet, still beating and anxious.

She simply couldn't help but imagine you in Viserys' place in any simple interaction she had with her king and husband.

You would certainly care for her, you would certainly support her, you would certainly be kind and devoted to her, her prince charming, a thought and dream she had time to delude herself into.

And in return, she would be nothing but perfect for you and still be the least. She was practically kissing the ground you walked on, taking your every word as the purest truth without ever doubting.

Her first pregnancy was a strong, frightening blow, the overwhelming panic making her breast beat erratically. She knew it was her duty, her only duty, as queen and woman. But she never thought she would be as bewildered as she was. A hole opened below his feet.

A baby. If it was a boy, Alicent's salvation, but if it was a girl... It would be better not to even think about it. A prince or princess...

The initial confusion and panic wasn't the worst part. That was Viserys's baby and not his love's baby. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was married to the king, not his son. And the growing creature in her belly was her constant reminder.

Things got worse as the pregnancy progressed, she was completely alone at court, with the nannies and maids for company who tried to help her as much as possible.

Viserys spent much of his time in the council or in his own thoughts and the constant grief over the loss of his wife. Rhaenyra couldn't even bear to be in the same room as her and Alicent had truly never been more grateful that Daemon was away.

The only person who provided the slightest amount of care was you. Of course it would be you. You prince in shining armor.

She couldn't help but melt whenever you checked on her, just making sure of her well-being, even if there is still the persistent uncomfortable barrier between you. A barrier she would like to break as quickly as possible.

And so she did. Alicent is Otto's daughter, and an apple never falls far from the tree, even a green apple.

She quickly started with her little theater the moment her belly started to grow. Constantly grumbling under his breath when he stood for a long time, or becoming breathless after a brief walk whenever he had to accompany Viserys to banquets and important political events.

She spent sleepless nights, only to be left with dark circles under her droopy doe eyes. Always with a small, weak smile on his lips, observing from the corner of his eyes his features slightly furrowed in concern.

And then... that's it, the magic was done. His presence was now more constant, much less subtle and rigidly polished in verifications. His arm always there for her when she would sit down or to hold herself steady.

At banquets, you would carefully approach her, offering her something to drink or escorting her to her seat.

This continued to progress at a rapid pace, and before you knew it, you were caught up in Alicent's web. Attracted like a moth to the light. • In one day, You weren't close to her. And in the other You was lightly caressing the woman's belly, feeling your brother give little kicks.

And Alicent? She had never been so happy, simply glowing with pure joy. Viserys was getting sicker every day, Rhaenyra will get married soon and will be very busy with her own family under construction. Soon it will just be you and her. Happy forever.

#yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon x reader #yandere x reader #yandere house of the dragon #yandere alicent hightower #Alicent Hightower Yandere #Alicent hightower x reader #Yandere Alicent Hightower x Reader

118 notes · View notes

scaralvr · 1 year

Text

test me. scaramouche x immortal!gn!reader contains :: religious themes, angst, 3.3 archon quest spoilers

synopsis: you have been scaramouche's faithful & loyal assistant since he was graced with the title of balladeer, but your acts of dedication towards his great being go unnoticed by him each time. however, you would never give up on your God. it is him you worship, not the tsaritsa. when he replaces you with haypasia, you refuse to live without another to serve under.

notes :: songfic based off of melanie martinez's song test me! i haven't written in awhile so it may be a little rusty :')

at first, you weren't quite sure what to think of the almighty sixth you would serve for the rest of your life as a fatui recruit. bearing a cryo vision, you found no use for the doctor's delusions, but the sixth himself requested you use one, for whatever reason you aren't aware of. the sixth of the eleven had a temper that you didn't mind, but still didn't deem his behaviour tolerable. he acts like a brat, expecting everything to be handed to him on a silver platter by his pathetic inferiors.

it sickens you to the core. how could you serve someone as cruel and disgusting as him? questions like these flood your mind but a specific one stands out from the rest. why do you serve him? with such joy and enthusiasm, too. you're fully aware that the other fatui have been stirring up some trouble with scandalous rumors they spread around, fixating on how insane you must be to enjoy working under the balladeer's orders.

you're not deranged. a little eccentric, scaramouche would say. he doesn't mind your passion as his assistant, if anything, he prefers to have someone like this rather than a timid and quiet person who has to be told twice to finish things up. you don't even talk his ear off but instead, abide by every single demand of his and choose to stay silent when he says to. he calls you a, 'smart one,' considering the fact that his past assistants had to face the consequences you were avoiding.

you found the happiness you rarely had in serving him, enjoying the way he sadistically looks into nothing while going on and on about his sinister plans to overpower his creator through his birth of a God. he'd been planning this for quite a while and you were there through all of it. you stole for him, risked your life for him, took lives for him, and what did you get in return after years of your service? your knees feel weak and you suppose it's from kneeling to him all of the time.

they grow even weaker and the breath is knocked out of your throat at his words. "your assistance was tolerable and i'll be dismissing you. this is where your job ends, (y/n)." his words pound at your head and repeat like a broken loop, reminding you over and over that you're not needed. the God that you love and cherish is abandoning his divine angel. his fallen angel. you don't know why, but tears spring to your eyes as you step forward with a hand against your chest. you open your mouth to speak in a small voice, "but, my lord, i'm afraid you do need me. who will come along with you on your way through your journey of Godhood?"

scaramouche doesn't spare you a single glance and chooses to look out the window. "a researcher i've come across in sumeru has proven her worth to me. and don't get me twisted, you have proven your worth as well. she is... simply better in terms of everything and if you can't handle that truth, i don't care. do as i say, since you worship me so much," a wide smirk stretches his lips and you catch sight of it in the reflection of the glass window. the light in your eyes go out in sorrow as you percieve the fact that your God replaced you.

hey, God, i'll be the jester. entertain you, to the best of, my ability.

you wander sumeru with a blank expression, still registering the moments that previously occured. you cut ties with your family and loved ones for him and going back there wouldn't do you any good, as they've already deemed you as scum for joining the fatui all those years ago. your immortal state makes it worse, since you figure living without a purpose is much worse than death itself. while walking with your head down, your shoulder hits something. a person. you turn your head and your eyes meet those of a dashing gold. a fairly handsome man with long blonde hair tied in a braid appears astounded. not too far, a fairy with white hair floats next to him.

"sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going."

at that pathetic apology, you narrow your eyes. what type of person puts the blame on themself when they know very well it's the other's fault? curious, you place a hand on your hip and comment, "your attire... it's not from here. may i question you?" the fairy excitedly claps her hands, "oh, we were about to question you, actually!" you raise a brow, "really? whatever for?" the man kindly smiles and explains the situation to you in a tone like he's known you forever. scaramouche has known you forever. he's never shown such kindness like that to you.

you have no one to serve. no one to follow. all of your sacrifices were a waste, for the very man you put everything on the line for, threw you away like a worthless piece of trash. as you listen to the voice of the mysterious traveler, you feel a hope light up within you again. maybe, just maybe, it'll be different. this time, it will. when he finishes his brief explanation, you instantly shoot your shot. "the balladeer, you say?"

in the meanwhile, scaramouche is left to his own gadgets within the solace of his temporary room. temporary, because he knows he'll be on the move again. he always will be, now that he's turned his back on her majesty, the tsaritsa, and ran away with one of her treasured gnoses. he stares out the window, just like he did a few hours ago, and realizes the time. the sun is beginning to set and usually, you would enter the room with a tray of tea for both him and you to share as he discusses his plans.

it's not too long before scaramouche remembers he already removed you from the plan. your company and assistance have brought him this far, huh? he lets out a sigh that makes him realize he was holding in his breath for quite a bit now. he places his elbow atop the window sill and rests his chin in his palm. it's gotten a little boring since you left, hasn't it? it hasn't even been a day. scaramouche grits his teeth and groans in frustration. it seems like he doesn't enjoy the feeling of being alone, either.

but it's whatever! you're his faithful assistant, maybe if you put some thought into that robotic and tiny brain of yours, you'll be smart enough to come back because both you and scaramouche know you could never survive without him. yeah, you'll be back. the moon rises in the sky and scaramouche tightens his clutch on the wood of the sill. you'll definitely be back...

when i suffer, more fragility, when i answer. came here for a reason.

for the next few days, you spend it with aether and his friend, paimon. he easily opened up to you about his lost sister and the nations he previously went to in hopes of finding her but to no avail. you pity the poor male and choose to make his time in sumeru more enjoyable before he goes off to confront the balladeer. ah, it wasn't too hard to tell him that you're the balladeer's assistant. paimon was a little jumpy at first, but he, he was understanding... someone worthy of worshipping.

bit by bit, scaramouche can feel himself breaking. every little thing irritates him. the sound of the wind's harsh currents, the feeling of something rough against the supple skin of his hand, the crippling isolation of his room. with a determined yet firm frown, he remakes a brew of green tea for the several time this week. it doesn't taste right. no matter how much sugar he adds (which he never enjoys in his tea but he's trying), he can't recreate the taste of the way you made it.

little does he know, you're making the same tea, yet it's for another man. "(y/n), this is very well-made!" aether exclaims with a grin and you feel yourself flush red. "is it?... thank you," you mutter, turning away to pour some into a tea cup for paimon. aether chuckles, "you've done alot for me and my traveling companion, (y/n). and i've been wondering about something for sometime." you notice the way he fumbles with the tea cup in his hands from the corner of your eye. "go on," you say, putting aside the tea pot and facing him. aether confidently adds, "i'd like for you to join me on my journeys, if you'll allow it. considering the way the balladeer did all of that to you-"

ah. you uncomfortably shuffle your feet in your position and paimon notices the tense situation. "h-hey, it's alright, (y/n)! aether's a really nice guy, huh? we would never do something like that to you!" paimon says, trying to lighten the mood. you let out a soft sigh, "i... thank you. will you let me think about it?" aether pauses and eagerly nods, "of course. take as much time as you need." and that's how you ended up wandering in the vast forest of sumeru. no matter which way you shift your thoughts, it always ends up drifting back to the indigo haired harbinger.

you delicately hold a sumeru rose in your hands and tilt your head to inspect the flower. suddenly, an anger rises and before you realize it, you're tightly clutching the flower, completely destroying its petals and stem altogether. you loved him. he was your everything. you guess he didn't feel the same for you. because he is a heartless, wretched and brutal — the silent time to yourself was interfered with another person's barely audible gasp. you're quick to whip around and wield your sword, finding the sharp end of it against someone's neck. scaramouche is unfazed, content, even.

"still on guard as ever," he murmurs, using his finger to guide your sword away from his throat, but the pressure of your blade creates a small slit against his flawless skin and you draw blood. you slowly withdraw your weapon as he traces his fingertip along the wound. "what has my little ex-assistant been up to as of late? i don't think you have any business in sumeru, do you?" scaramouche casually asks while impotently wiping the blood on his attire.

you knit your brows together and as much as it hurts to do so, you speak without using your usual endearment, 'my lord,' for him. "you cease to exist to me, balladeer," the way it rolls off of your tongue is foreign to him, it even surprises you. scaramouche has no time for petty feelings, but he lets them get in the way. his pupils are blown with anger as he seethes, "who do you think you are? just because i've abandoned you like the hindrance you are, it doesn't mean you get to treat me with such... inferiority!"

"but you're wrong, balladeer. i can and i will." with those words serving a final blow to his non-existent heart, you turn on your heel to find the blonde traveler with the answer to his question bound to escape your lips that used to say nothing but praises to the sixth.

just stop complaining, all have our seasons, it's not just a joke or a lesson to live through.

scaramouche watches your form disappear in the distance, only then, can he fully consume the fact that you aren't coming back unless he asks. stubborn one, aren't you? always playing hard to get. he deludes himself with this, believing that you still want to serve your one and only God. right, he's owned you from the start. he owned you the moment you agreed to be his assistant. you can't just get up and leave like that, no, your work is far from done. scaramouche agrees that it was rather trivial to dismiss you like that and he sees his mistake. why can't you understand that he needs you back?

but the cherry on top is the way you stand before his godly form, alongside the traveler. you're not supposed to be here. scaramouche is struck with shock when he sees you enter the scene with aether. the moment is swept away just as quick when he laughs. he laughs like a crazed man, hands on his stomach as he catches his breath. "oh, this is rich, (y/n)! you're so worthless, you really had to find another to serve after i ditched you. you're nothing but a weak follower and i plan on making you take that role to the grave," his tone drops to that of a condescending one and various emotions surge through his veins.

the immense adrenaline pumping through his system can't compare to the pain he feels when buer seizes his gnosis. this can't be happening. he's done so much to make it this far, only for all of it to come crashing down before him. his mother, his friend, the child, you. you've left a scar on him that he'll never forget. he hates it. you must be smirking to yourself as he falls from the large mech. he misses when you were still by his side, always smiling even when he ordered you to commit something so atrocious as murder.

he acknowledges it now. scaramouche realizes that you were there from the beginning and despite his cruel doings, he was your God. he never needed to go this far, because he was yours. what is this feeling, he wonders. well, it's too late now. scaramouche can only accept defeat, falling, until... he hits something, but it certainly isn't the ground. his eyes can barely stay open from how visibly exhausted he is yet he manages to make out a figure looking down at him. you steadily hold him in your arms and aether rushes to you. "are you sure you want to do this, (y/n)?" he queries. you nod in response, "i'll look after him."

every which way in second, there's a breakthrough.

scaramouche, now being the wanderer, loiters within sumeru with no purpose whatsoever. with no place to go or stay, he explores and occasionally helps the traveler with some of their needs. but it still hurts. even if he's occupied himself with other things, he keeps on thinking about you. it was always you. yet the searing pain makes him wail at night, recalling the way you looked at him like he was... a stranger.

"(y/n)!" for the first time in forever, he genuinely smiled. he was happy that at least, he still had you through this whole wreck. scaramouche had the guts to apologize. coming to think of it, it was a stupid thing from the beginning. he was thankful that you stayed loyal to him and still were at that time, considering the fact that you took care of him when he was unconscious. when nahida informed him of it, he couldn't be more relieved.

you turn at the exclaimation of your name and instantly back away in confusion. "aether, who is this?" your words put scaramouche's movements to a stop and his smile drops. "wh-what do you mean? traveler, what do they mean?" he hurriedly asked, voice cracking in between some words. you furrow your brows together and aether muttered, "they don't remember you,"

he felt the heaviest weight bring itself onto his chest. it's hard to breathe. that's right, he erased himself from the memories of many people, including you. how could he be so blind back then? all he needed, wanted, was someone that could stay by his side forever and love him unconditionally. he knew very well you were immortal, so he wouldn't have to worry about your lifespan. he also knew how much you worshipped him, so he wouldn't have to worry about the potential chance of betrayal, either.

why did he let such a beautiful and caring little thing like you out of his sight?

1K notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 3 months

Text

Flesh for Fantasy

Note: what can I say, it's a good song.

Warnings: smut 18+!!! mention of weed and smoking.

pairing: "modern"!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric invited you over to play some games and listen to a record.

wordcount: 4,6k

Masterlist

1983.

There he was; Sihtric Kjartansson. You saw him across the record store as you browsed through the newly released vinyl section with your friend, Eadith. Sihtric looked so effortlessly stunning when he was just standing there, leaning back against the wall next to the checkout while he spoke to his friends; Uhtred, Osferth and Finan, the latter who owned the record store.

Sihtric's friends were also handsome, you couldn't deny that, but Sihtric was truly something else. He was always a little different and a little more extravagant looking than the other boys, like today. He was wearing untied black leather boots, fitted leather pants and a KISS shirt that was cut into a crop top. Sihtric often wore crop tops and you loved it, as it showed off his well trained body. Around his neck he wore a hammer pendant, which he wore religiously, and around his wrist he had a chunky silver chain bracelet. His hair was partly shaved off, his beautiful curls only gracing one side of his perfectly scarred face. Sihtric was into punk and rock music, and he often wore shirts of bands you liked and sometimes those you had never even heard of. You also knew he drove a black BMW M3, and he was always blasting music loudly in his car as he drove. And last but not least, the pretty boy had two different coloured eyes.

You simply had the biggest crush on him ever since the first time you saw him in that very same record store, and you sort of knew each other, but only vaguely. Eadith had a thing for Finan and they had hooked up more than once in the past. And since she was your best friend, you had hung out with the guys too on several occasions when you joined Eadith at a party. But you never spoke much with Sihtric as he made you a nervous wreck.

Sihtric had glanced at you from across the store a few times already while you searched for a specific single, but to no avail. You eventually gathered the courage to walk up to the guys so you could ask Finan if the vinyl was still in stock, leaving Eadith browsing on her own. Your heart was beating rapidly as you neared them, and you swallowed hard when Sihtric looked at you as you stood right next to him, waiting for Finan to ask you if he could help you, but he seemed rather busy as he argued with Uhtred about how great that new Men at Work single was, and Osferth got caught up in the discussion too. You flashed Sihtric a shy smile while you waited, and he returned a sly smile. He then used the fact that Finan was too busy to acknowledge you to his advantage.

'Hey, sugar,' Sihtric said smoothly, his sly smile still set on his face.

'H-hey,' you blushed heavily.

'Looking for something, doll?'

'Eh, yeah,' you chuckled nervously, 'but I can't find it, so…,' you shrugged.

'What are you looking for then?'

'That new Billy Idol single.'

'Flesh for Fantasy?'

'Yeah,' you smiled, 'it's really new.'

'Mhm, I know,' Sihtric pushed himself away from the wall, 'let me have a look with you then,' he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, walking you with him to the newly released records section.

Technically, Sihtric didn't work in the record store, nor did Uhtred and Osferth, but they all often helped Finan out since they loved records as much as the Irish man himself. So whenever someone needed help and they were around, none of them would hesitate to help out.

'I already checked here,' you said, feeling all giddy as you were closer than ever to your crush right now, 'but it's not here.'

'Really?' Sihtric frowned and let go of you, then quickly flipped through numerous vinyl to find your desired single, 'hm, looks like you're right, sweetheart. Guess we sold out already. I'm sorry, love.'

'Ah, man,' you pouted, 'I really wanted to listen to it.'

'I'm sure there will be a restock next weekend, so you'll have to hang in there a little longer,' he winked, 'also, MTV plays it like every hour, just switch on your tv, doll.'

'But then I have to sit through the rest of the shitty music they play too,' you argued.

Sihtric chuckled and looked you up and down while he leaned back, his elbows on the countless vinyl next to you, 'Well, if you really want to listen to it,' he said, 'I got a copy back home, darling. Why don't you stop by sometime?'

'What?' you asked wide-eyed, 'oh, n-no, I don't, eh, want to be a bother or anything.'

Sihtric smiled when you looked away, desperately trying to hide your flushed face, which he thought was adorable and he couldn't help but chuckle again.

'You're not a bother, angel,' he said and nudged your elbow, 'besides, it's more fun to listen to music together anyway, isn't it? We could also play some video games too. I saw you coming out of the game store a few days ago,' he confessed, 'so I figured you like to game too, correct me if I'm wrong. But we could play some games and listen to some records, you know, veg out. No pressure though.'

You looked with panic in your eyes towards Eadith, who was behind Sihtric, and she mouthed a 'do it!' to you.

'I, eh, I- I guess, yeah, s-sure.'

'Rad,' Sihtric smiled, 'hm, you got any plans tomorrow afternoon?'

You looked at Eadith again, who shook her head and mouthed 'no.'

'Not… not really, n-no,' you said to the pretty boy, who still smiled at you and leaned in a little too close for it to not be flirty.

'Well,' he said, 'then if you'd like to, we can meet up here at four? I'll give you a ride to my place.'

'Yeah, o-okay.'

'Rad,' Sihtric said again, 'I'll see you tomorrow then, sugar,' he winked.

You were so nervous to meet up with Sihtric the next day that you had called Eadith hours before four. You went on and on about how you didn't want to get your hopes up with him, that there's no way he would be into you and eventually you even decided you didn't want to go anymore.

'You're going!' Eadith hissed through the phone, 'he clearly likes something about you, so find out what he wants.'

'But… but what if he only wants to… you know, like, have sex?'

'Well, then you have sex with him! Christ, girl,' Eadith sighed, 'you've liked him for so long, you can't not meet up with him now that he finally made a move!'

'I don't know…'

'Come on,' your friend groaned, 'what are you afraid of?'

'God, I don't know,' you sighed as you laid on your bed, twirling the telephone wire around your finger, 'what if he just meant it friendly?'

'Did you not see the way he was eyeing you up? There was nothing friendly about that. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen him check you out. He always glances at you when you're in the store. And he even remembered seeing you a few days ago. This is not just friendly, I promise you. It will be fine. Sihtric is a nice guy, okay? He's not going to use you once and just dump your ass. He's not Uhtred. Sihtric is the loyal type of guy, everything will be fine, just go for it.'

With those words kept in mind, you got ready to leave for the record store. You put some light blush on your cheeks, some black mascara and eyeliner, and you put a popping pink lipstick on your lips, which matched your pink eyeshadow. You were dressed in a short black dress with fishnet tights and black sneakers underneath, and a pink denim jacket draped over your shoulders. You put on a necklace with a lightning pendant before you left out the door, and you walked to the store while butterflies taunted your stomach. You were so nervous for your date, as you weren't even sure if it was a date date, that you felt like throwing up. Regardless, you made it to the record store without getting sick, and you found Sihtric already waiting for you at the parking lot. He was wearing a white Vikings crop top with denim jeans underneath. His jeans were tucked into his black signature boots and held up by a black leather belt. You felt your heart skip a beat when you neared him while he sat on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. Unlike yesterday, he was wearing several rings on his tattooed fingers today, and he fidgeted with one while he stared towards the record store entrance.

He only averted his eyes from the store when he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye, and he smiled when he saw it was you approaching. He breathed out the smoke he had inhaled and flicked away his cigarette while he jumped up.

'Hey, sweetheart,' he said, so smoothly again as he embraced you.

'Hi,' was all you managed to say, and you inhaled his scent; a mixture of cigarettes and fruity bubblegum.

'You look bodacious,' he smiled, 'how are you doing today?' he asked and opened the car door for you.

You lied and said you were doing perfectly fine, while your nerves almost got the best of you, and you took a deep breath when Sihtric slammed the door shut and made his way over to the driver's seat. He smiled at you as he started his car, and soon the familiar sound to Black Sabbath's Crazy Train blasted through the car.

'I like your necklace,' he said, 'lightning. Matches my pendant,' he winked, and you were glad that the music filled up the silence when Sihtric drove off the parking lot, because you forgot how to speak after his compliment.

'So,' Sihtric then said and lowered the volume of his radio, 'what game did you get the other day then?'

'Hm? Oh, eh, I, eh… Donkey Kong 3,' you mumbled.

'Really? You played it already? I heard it's wicked.'

'Oh,' you chuckled, relieved to find out Sihtric didn't think you were a loser, 'y-yeah, it's pretty wicked. You could, you know, maybe, like, borrow it sometime?'

'Really?' Sihtric smiled, 'yeah, that'd be nice. Hey, you can check out some of my games, and if you see anything you like you can borrow them too.'

'Really?' you fought a smile.

'Of course, why not? Sharing is caring, right?' Sihtric chuckled and smoothly placed his hand on your knee while he kept his eyes on the road.

You silently gasped at his sudden touch, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you felt yourself blush and completely melt when he began to slowly rub his thumb over your skin.

'I got the latest Mario Bros game,' he said, 'we could play that one today if you like.'

You agreed to his plan with a smile, and Sihtric kept his hand on your knee until he had to shift gears several times. Then, he kept his hand on his gear stick, while lightly tracing your knee with his fingertip as you sat close enough. Once he pulled up at his house, he was quick to get out of his car and open your door, and he walked you up to his apartment.

As soon as you stepped through the door you felt intimidated by how cool Sihtric was. Even cooler than you thought. His small but cosy place was decorated with flags of some of his favourite musicians; Aerosmith, Mötley Crüe, KISS, AC/DC, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Blondie, The Clash, Iron Maiden, and last but not least; Billy Idol. He had a few cabinets that held several skulls as decoration, as well as a variety of headphones and game consoles. On one wall a sword was mounted, and underneath it you saw a reverted pentacle, which he had painted on the wall himself, simply because he thought it looked cool. He had a tv, a record player, a stereo with a huge speaker set, loads and loads of videotapes and hoards of vinyl and videogames. Here and there were some clothes scattered around, and his small place didn't have a couch, only a bed, one recliner chair and a table with two chairs next to the kitchen. Sihtric noticed you were a little taken aback by his home, and he smiled while kicking off his boots.

'Too messy?' he asked.

'N-no,' you chuckled and took off your sneakers, 'no, it's fine. I just… I- I like your… decor. It's pretty rad.'

'Yeah?' Sihtric smiled, a little cocky, 'thanks.'

He told you to get comfortable and offered you a drink. You awkwardly sat down on the side of his bed and waited until he returned to you with your drink.

'No need to be shy, darling,' Sihtric laughed softly and joined you on his bed, 'just act like you're at home.'

He laid down comfortably and beckoned you to sit closer. You scooted over and propped up a pillow to lean back against while Sihtric shuffled even closer to you. He turned to lay on his side and you caught him looking down at your legs, while he slowly licked his lips and bit down on his lower lip. A cheeky smile appeared as he brought his hand back to your knee again, and he lightly trailed his fingers up and down your thigh.

'So,' he said softly, 'you want to play a game first or listen to that single?'

'W-we could play a game first,' you said as cool as possible while his warm hands set you on fire.

'Mhm,' he hummed and looked up at you, 'you're really pretty you know?'

'I bet you say that to a lot of girls,' you blurted out.

Sihtric stared at you, surprised, and an amused smile appeared on his face.

'You're right,' he admitted, 'I do. But I only do that in the record store,' he shrugged, 'you know, fake flirting.'

'So you're fake flirting now?'

'No, I'm not. I only fake flirt at the store to boost the sales for Finan,' Sihtric revealed and continued to slowly caress your skin, 'I'm never serious when I flirt there. However,' he paused to look back into your eyes, 'I'm very serious right now.'

'Oh,' you mumbled and looked away.

Sihtric enjoyed watching you being at a loss for words for a moment, and he then chuckled softly again before he sat up.

'Well, let's play some games then.'

After two hours of gaming, you finally felt more relaxed while Sihtric became more flirty. As the game was loading to the next level, he pulled you in his lap and sat back against the bed's headboard, and he snuck his arms under yours, around your waist, locking you in as he held his Nintendo controller with both hands. You sat back against his chest, feeling a mixture of nerves and comfort when he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You watched him play the next game and giggled when he lost, terribly, to which he gave you a teasing squeeze.

'Are you laughing at me, darling?' he asked playfully, 'this is a hard level, okay?'

'Sure,' you laughed, 'or maybe you're just not that good.'

'Oh, really?' Sihtric dropped the controller next to him on the bed, 'like you're so good, lady.'

'Better than you,' you grinned as you looked back at him, 'I won the most games here.'

'How dare you?' he squinted his eyes, 'insulting me in my own house?'

Sihtric gave you a mean glare but then broke out in smiles and started to poke your ribs. You yelped and tried to fight him, and soon you were playing pretend wrestling with the handsome Dane on his bed. It didn't take long before he had you flipped over on your back while you were both laughing, and out of nowhere he suddenly cupped your cheek and kissed you firmly. The sound of both your laughter was silenced instantly, and for a moment the only sound being heard was the nintendo menu soundtrack and the beating of your own heart in your ears. When the kiss was broken after a few long seconds, Sihtric looked at you with a half smile and he slowly traced his thumb over your lower lip. When he felt your hands move up his body and underneath his cropped shirt, he leaned back in to capture you in another firm, head spinning kiss. Soon, the sound of heavy breaths and soft gasps filled the room along with the cheerful Nintendo melody, and your hands moved through his hair while he squeezed your waist as you made out on his bed.

'Hold on,' Sihtric husked and pushed himself up from the bed, 'let me put on that record now, sweetheart.'

He quickly grabbed the vinyl you had been looking for at the store the day before, and he switched on his record player and pressed auto-repeat. When the song began to play, Sihtric took a small box out of a drawer and returned to you on the bed. You sat up and leaned in when he beckoned you closer. He opened the box and looked at you as he leaned his shoulder against yours.

'You want to share some devil's lettuce, baby?' he asked, sweetly.

'W-what?' you frowned, confused, 'I… hm, what is that?'

Sihtric smiled at you, but then realised you were truly confused and didn't know what he meant.

'Devil's lettuce,' he smiled and held up a half smoked blunt, 'is weed, sweetheart.'

'Oh,' your eyes grew big, 'oh, I, eh… I've never… you know…'

'Wanna try it with me, love?'

Your eyes darted between Sihtric and the blunt he held up, and you smiled nervously while you considered his offer. But Sihtric already knew your answer, and he didn't want you to do anything you didn't truly want only to impress him or whatever you thought you had to do. He already liked you for you and didn't want to change you.

'Hey, it's okay, doll,' he almost whispered and held your chin, 'you don't have to try it if you don't want to.'

'Yeah, I… I don't think I want to,' you admitted shyly.

'No worries,' he pecked your lips, 'mind if I smoke though?'

You told him it was fine, and you sat back watching him as he lit the blunt and took a few long drags. He closed his eyes and smiled, then threw his head back slowly and exhaled the strongly scented smoke through his lips.

I am experienced, oh yeah…Face to face… and back to back…

You watched him in awe, the way he sat next to you with his eyes closed, his head thrown back and his lips parted in a smile, his neck tattoo completely exposed and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed; it was enough to turn you into the neediest lady. And then he slowly opened his eyes, put the blunt on an ashtray and turned to look into your eyes.

You see and feel… my sex attack…

You gazed at each other and he leaned in, cupped your cheek with one hand and pulled you in for a heated kiss.

Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…

He pushed you down on the bed, his hands shoving underneath your skirt, pushing it up and easily pulling down your fishnet tights and panties at once. You were quick to remove his shirt and worked his belt while he kissed you, holding your face with his warm, slightly trembling hands, his tongue in your mouth allowing you to taste the Devil's lettuce he just smoked.

We want…

Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…

Sihtric took off his jeans and boxers and then completely took off your dress, leaving you both completely exposed while the music blasted through his room. He quickly grabbed a condom out of his nightstand drawer and pulled the blankets over you both. He then climbed on top of you, slowly grinding and teasing you with his hard cock, rubbing it against your soaked folds to the rhythm while he kissed you hungrily. He brought one hand to your throat and moved his other slowly down your side, to your waist. Your breath hitched when he lightly squeezed your throat, and your eyes widened as that was not something you were used to. Your previous lovers had been rather boring, so to say, and you looked up at Sihtric with uncertainty in your eyes while you placed your hands on his wrist.

'Relax, darling,' he murmured against your lips, 'you're safe with me, I promise,' he pecked your lips and then flicked his tongue teasingly, 'and if you don't like it then you'll have have to say it, and I'll stop, okay?'

You hummed in agreement and slowly released your grip on his wrist, then brought your hands up into his hair again, adding pressure to keep his lips locked with yours while you kissed. He then teased your clit with his fingers, earning soft moans and gasps from you even before he slid his fingers inside you. And when he did, you tensed for a moment at the stretching sensation, but you relaxed just quickly when you felt his lips drag down from your chin to your neck. You smiled and squirmed while he slowly thrusted two digits in and out of you, completely dissolving into the pleasure he gave you. Sihtric watched you with hazy eyes, admiring the pure bliss on your face and the sounds you made just for him and because of him.

'You're making such a mess for me, sweetheart,' he purred and continued to pleasure you with just his hands, to which you smiled and bit down on your lip.

Sihtric watched you closely with an intense gaze, desperately wanting to see your eyes roll back in pleasure, just for him, so he picked up his pace to get you to the edge as fast as possible. But he also wanted this moment to last; he wanted to torture you in the most pleasant of ways as long as he could. He wanted to break you, lovingly though, and he wanted to make you beg. He worshipped you and adored you, and he didn't want to hurt you, ever. But the thought of making you cry was one that wouldn't leave his mind while he watched you gasp and moan so sweetly for him. He wanted to see your eyeliner and mascara run down your face, and see your pink lipstick smudged and have his own lips and neck covered with the popping colour. He wanted to see your eyeshadow stains on his pillowcase when he was done with you, as well as feeling the burning sensation of the scratches that your nails would leave on his skin. Sihtric wanted to fuck you. Fuck you to the point you're all marked up and claimed by him. He wanted to own you, but not in a psychotic kind of way, no, only in a loving way.

And as he felt your walls clench around his fingers, knowing your climax was approaching, he pulled away from you. You gasped at the sudden loss, a surprised look painted your face as you looked up at Sihtric, who smiled slyly as he watched you being all needy and desperate for him.

'S-Sihtric,' you breathed, 'please…'

'I know, sugar,' he cooed and repeatedly kissed your lips gently, 'I know you want more.'

'Please,' you begged.

You heard his soft chuckle in your ear and then he swiftly moved to lay behind you. He placed his big, warm hand on your hip, pulling you flush against his body underneath the sheets and he wrapped his other arm around you. He peppered your neck with soft kisses while he smoothly slid his hard, twitching cock inside you. A sharp gasp escaped you, smiling, and the music in the background suddenly became quiet as the record player prepared itself to repeat the single. Seconds later you heard the familiar beat again, and you threw your head back at the feeling of Sihtric's slow, deep thrusts inside you. He kept his pace steady, rhythmically, and he cupped your breast only to massage it before he squeezed your soft flesh.

'Fuck, ahh,' he breathed, then chuckled and grazed your ear with his lips, 'I've never had a pussy this good.'

He brought his hand back to your throat, lightly squeezing it, and he growled when he felt your walls clenched tightly around him while a needy cry left your mouth.

'Hm,' he hummed, 'you like it, don't you?'

'Y-yes,' you whined, and moaned when you felt his grasp on your hip becoming firmer.

Sihtric trailed his fingers over your neck, up your chin, and he traced your lips lightly.

'Suck my fingers for me, doll?' he whispered brokenly while he began to thrust harder into you.

You did as he asked, sloppily sucking the fingers he had fucked you with before, and the sound of his heavy breathing only made you suck his fingers more eagerly.

'That's good, darling,' Sihtric rasped, 'just like that. Keep going for me.'

Your moans were muffled as your mouth was full, and only a faint cry of pleasure snuck out when he suddenly slapped your sensitive spot. You squirmed in his embrace, desperately wanting to reach your climax, but he continued to tease and edge you while he fucked you slow and steady.

You cry…

Flesh… Flesh for Fantasy…

You brought your hand up to the back of his neck, clawing at his skin, turning your face to the side so you felt his hot breath on your lips and in your mouth as he pulled out his fingers. His pace became rougher, and each time you neared your climax he slapped your pussy hard and sunk his teeth in your neck, marking you, until you begged him to let you finish as tears ran down your face.

'P-please,' you cried, 'I n-need to… c-cum.'

And then he finally flipped you over, face down and pressed into his pillow, and he grabbed your waist to fuck you relentlessly. The fire in your lower abdomen rose quickly, and your muscles tightened up as the heat finally exploded inside you and spread through your entire body. You grabbed onto Sihtric's arm he had around you, digging your nails into his flesh while you came with loud moans, and inaudible curse words left your lips while he fucked you through your climax, chasing his own. And when his pace became sloppy, he dug his fingers in your your waist and you felt him pulsate when he stilled inside you. You were both breathing hard and heavy, gasping for air while you collapsed into each other's arm, and you were only brought back from your highs when you suddenly heard the record player preparing itself to repeat the record again.

You looked into Sihtric's eyes as he held you, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb while he gazed back into your eyes. You both had flushed cheeks and yours were covered with your smudged make-up, which Sihtric thought was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And you loved seeing your lipstick stains on his lips, cheeks, and smudged all over his chin, neck and shoulders. He leaned in and sweetly pecked your lips, then smiled at you.

'So… you heard that record enough now?'

'I think so, for today at least,' you chuckled and buried your face in his neck.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed, smiling, 'well, we could always listen to it again tomorrow.'

'Only tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow,' Sihtric whispered and kissed your forehead, 'and every other day after.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #modern!sihtric #look I have proof read this several times but Danas kept interrupting me so forgive any mistakes left... it's his fault

167 notes · View notes

chawarin-panich · 3 months

Text

Disclaimer: I'm not Thai and this contains a lot of conjectures that needs to be fact checked by someone who is either Thai/ knows enough about Thai folk culture to comment. So the tits out nagini played by Babe joke (that I'm really enjoying this isn't to knock us having a laugh down) really made me think about how demonizing female tits is a relatively post christian missionary disseminating puritanism as a extra religious extra cultural inherent to human civilization idea. So then, are the naginis meant to have their tits out and is using babe to portray the authentic nagini style of dress just a clever way of circumventing modern laws about censorship? Bottom line is - I don't know and I have no way of knowing on account of having zero access to Thai people but I do have some evidence:

Babe is wearing a 'female' style of dress

I don't think I really needed to start here because the deliberate use of female pronouns makes it fairly clear that Babe is supposed to be a woman here but there's also the chain, the scarf, the long hair, gaudier accessories etc 2. Babe and Freen are supposed to be the same person and look very very similar, more similar than they do in real life but maybe even identical for narrative purposes

The show has pushed the audience towards suspension of disbelief when it comes to how similar Freen and Babe look. The portrait of Freen as the Nagini looks like Freen and NOT Babe and yet all the characters in the show are convinced it looks like Tharn (played by Babe). This told me that no matter what I think for the show to make sense to me Babe and Freen look like they could be twins for all that reality matters. They have the same name and modern day Wansarut, played by Babe, shows up as a reflection of the past Wansarut, played by Freen, BEFORE the transformation at the end of ep 5

In fact, the transformation is never shown and modern!Wansarut appears fully formed in front of Phaya as though once Phaya has allowed himself to open his eyes, he can see the truth - that they're the same. Their gender is never shown to 'transform' on screen and I think what this show is pushing for is that gender is just NOT an inherent part of their identity. IMO, that's taking it a step further than simply saying Wansarut was a girl in past life and Wansarut is a boy in this life. It's like saying Wansarut is Wansarut, whether Wansarut is a a boy or girl is just as relevant as whether Wansarut is wearing modern day clothing or traditional clothing. 3. The women have their tits out too????

look at freen's hand, that's not a shirt, that's her skin and it's the same color as Babe's clothing is when Babe plays Wansarut

same with Songjet she doesn't have the scarf or chains and her shirt is textured to the scales of a serpent. I think this is a tits out look too.

All their tits on principle appear to be out 4. Are tits out nagini the tradition? This is the part I have no idea. It's not like googling a hundred nagini statues from thailand will tell me when they were made easily or accurately. All I can say is that all the anthropomorphized nagini statues that were wearing clothes were very obviously wearing clothes and not scale textured clothing. There's also these tits proudly out variations

#the sign the series #the sign #the sign meta #the sign the series meta #is this meta??? idek #the sign something #everyone i spent a lot of time on this please reblog and or discuss if you found interesting #i dont know how to tag this lol #billybabe #phayatharn

179 notes · View notes

chococolte · 2 years

Note

i adore your writing SO much its so detailed and expressive its amazing like im in awe??? even the old works you reposted i love it so much?!??? if its open still id like to request sagau with ayato and thoma (and any other if you want to add someone!!) and them maybe meeting their god or being praised?

Thoma already is such a sweetheart so i can imagine how he'd melt from even the slightest bit of praise, and ayato is such a prideful man but itd be so interesting to see how he pushes that aside for his god. Absolutely adore all the sagau works youve posted so far, imagining their wholehearted devotion and love in such a way is just 👌 cant wait to read more <33333

word count. 1.1k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obssessive thoughts/behaviors, religious & cult themes, sagau + cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. nonnie r we about to kiss...? u know just how to make me write ur req... regardless, thank you so so much!!! i hope this is okay for you??? this is just u praising them since im working on a bigger work that'll have all my takes on the genshin men as worshipers, I hope u don't mind!!

ayato

Ayato is a prideful man.

Raised from birth to be the clan head after his father, Ayato has always been steadfast. He has to be. He has a duty to his clan, to his sister; to protect her from the darker side of politics, the back-stabbing and infighting; to protect the ones who he cares about the most, the ones who work underneath him and the ones who have put their trust into his command.

He works because he must. He lies and deceives, and with guile he crafts webs of intricate gossamer, lying in wait for an unfortunate individual stupid enough to cross him. Ayato's pride is deliberate, molded by his hands, by the azure glow of the vision at his hip— he is sagacious and determined, mature and mighty.

It is surprising, then, how easily he crumbles when with you.

The echo of your laughter, your refulgent eyes, the steady cadence of your voice and your dulcet tones; every detail of your being enraptures him with the ease of breathing, with all of the ease of sunlight seeping through verdant glades.

Your praise, whether light or ostentatious, leaves Ayato melting in his seat. It's unlike him— unlike the tall, dignified man of cunning and wit, to be so weak and defenseless to only your words; but the tides of his heart pull regardless, drifting to the moonlight of your smile. To feel the weight of your eyes on him leaves him preening, crooning at your slightest attention.

What pride Ayato has is discarded for this brief moment of peace with you, so he can revel in the euphoria your praise alights.

Your eyes crinkle at the sides, twinkling in the dim light of your private chambers. "You did good," you say. You say it so simply he feels silly for getting so worked up, foolish for the way his cheeks burn.

A soft ember of candle wax lights your face only slightly, an orange halo coalescing behind your head. Despite the twilight, Ayato does his best to impress your visage into his mind; the rim of ethereal light cupping your head like a sunset dipping beneath the sea, the flame's reflection dancing on your skin, the light glistening in your eyes like a blanket of stars. He drills it into his head, desperate to never forget.

You stare into the candlelight for a moment, then rise to your feet. You take small, measured steps towards him, then take a spot next to his seated figure.

"I'm sorry to have called you so late at night," you whisper. Ayato keeps his expression calm, showing no emotions on his face, despite the wild rhythm of his heart in his chest. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to speak to you privately, otherwise. But I truly am grateful for all you've done."

Without breaking eye contact, you reach forward and cusp his cheek, rubbing your thumb over the birthmark under his lips. His skin burns like electricity runs through the current of his veins, his nerves set aflame by the kindling of your touch.

"You're so good for me. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?"

Ayato swallows thickly, then with trepidation, softly leans into your hands.

thoma

Thoma's heart beats against his ribcage with all the fury of a raging fire.

He squirms where he sits in front of you, furtively rubbing his legs together. Thoma drums his fingers on his knees in an attempt to calm himself, trying to focus on the light sound of the rapping of his knuckles.

The mere thought of being alone with you is enough to send him into a frenzy, but the reality of it makes it difficult to breathe. You had fed him compliments before, simple praise— but still, enough for him to wish the moment would last forever.

Light bores down through the diaphanous curtains of your throne room, reflecting your glistening, specular throne. Carved into the pillars that hold you up are jewels and precious stones, ingrained and polished until they shine like the sun in the sky.

“Thoma.”

You say his name in such a particular way, entirely unique to you. It sticks out in his mind, burning like a pyre. The way your lips cup together to form every syllable, the soft click of your tongue hitting against the roof of your mouth. That you know of his name at all is a kindness; that you speak it aloud, a blessing.

He grips the fabric of his pants a little tighter, digging his nails into his knees. Thoma helplessly resists the urge to kowtow before you, staying seated peacefully by your feet. You asked for him to do no more, and to imagine you ever dissatisfied with him brings him to tears.

You are his God. He wants to kiss your feet, whisper words of worship and love— but you have not asked for that. You asked for him to sit, and so he does. No more, no less, despite the yearning that aches within him.

Thoma nods his head in understanding, untrusting of his own voice. His heart trembles, drinking in your being, draped in fine silks and ornate jewelry. You are effortless in beauty and elegance; next to you, every god only stands to look like a parody of the beauteous glory of your existence.

“You're so beautiful,” you say. You reach forward and cup his cheek, and his breath hitches in his throat. Thoma’s eyes haze over with fog, but a warmth courses through him past the mist. Warmth from you, from the light you provide. Heat like an undercurrent runs through his veins and brings him back to reality. “So pretty. So good for me.”

A faint blush dances on his champagne-tinted skin, softly embracing his face and ears. Thoma looks up and meets your eyes, watching as you smile and wrinkle your eyes in a way that makes his knees weak. He's never been happier to be seated.

“I'm so proud of you.” You twirl his hair in your fingers, playing with his messy locks, ignoring the red blooming on his cheeks. Thoma bites his lip in an attempt to keep himself silent, butterflies hopelessly fluttering in his stomach.

“Please,” he murmurs. It's both a plead for you to continue and for you to stop— his heart is weak enough as it is, even without your praise. Coupled that with even the faintest of your breath against his skin, and Thoma is struggling to keep himself composed.

You laugh, whispering. “It's okay. Let me show you how proud I am of you.”

2K notes · View notes

leidensygdom · 1 month

Text

re: my last post, but since this always kinda comes up what's actually like to be an ace person with no interest for sex, lemme easily sum it up

I am a sex repulsed person dating a sex neutral person, we've been in a relationship for 2 years. I'm probably somewhere on the aro spectrum as well, or at least I do feel quite disconnected with how the usual for romantic relationships runs.

We've had people poke at our relationship over and over- Surely two ace people who aren't interested about sex have something weird. People tend to think we simply run a very very secret sexual life, or we are maybe lying about it, or we are ultra repressed. Or celibacy, that's always fun too, there's gotta be some religious reason on why two people who are dating and living together aren't going at it-

Now, I won't ever get into the usual morbid curiosity people tend to have about ace people. Asexuality is often kinda tied to "victim of SA" and so on by allo people. Some are, some don't. Not something I need to share.

So, now. What is sex in our relationship? Imagine you suggest your partner to maybe go open your favourite game of choice, or rolling in wet dirt for a couple of hours. Not to judge someone who would like to roll in wet dirt, but the idea is unappealing to both of us. Gaming is far more fun. We could be being stupid in Terraria. Or maybe we could go out and have dinner, or maybe roll in wet dirt for two hours. We like eating out, we don't like rolling in wet dirt. We go eat out.

Rolling in wet dirt is not something you'd feel like doing, ever. It isn't in the back of our minds. Some people absolutely love it, the world is plastered with it, people for some reason tell you that "rolling in wet dirt" is in their minds, and you're like, "that's kinda odd, I can't imagine actively thinking about that?", but it's okay, you just don't do it. It isn't even a checklist or something you're even curious about trying. There's plenty of other things out there you don't wanna do- Maybe eating a brain seems super unappealing while others swear by it. Maybe bungee jumping is all exciting to some, but it's just not something you ever wanna do it yourself.

So, well, there we go. That's what sex is to us. It's one activity we just don't have interest for, the same way that rolling in wet dirt is not something we ever plan to do. There isn't a grand secret we're hiding, it's extremely simple in fact. being ace is often actually kind of unexciting, according to aros. But I gotta say I'm quite excited about having a Terraria session tonight.

#maybe the takeaway is that terraria is better than s--

83 notes · View notes

blacknedsoul-blog · 2 months

Text

Lenore Vandernatch: the rogue, the gothic heroine and the courtly knight. A review of archetypes

Okay, after going over my notes, here we are again. In case you don't know what this is all about, here is the first of these posts where I'm doing a review of some of the archetypes that Annabel and Lenore seem to be taking notes on.

Just so this doesn't end up being another 3000 word post, let's get started.

The Rogue

In 1554, the first written version of "El Lazarillo de Tormes" was published, the foundational work of what would become known in Spain as the "picaresque novel": stories centered on the rogue, a poor rascal who uses trickery to ensure his survival.

At this stage of the game, we have rogues in a variety of flavors and colors. It would be difficult to make a comprehensive list, so let's talk about these characters in general.

The first thing to note is that rogues are, by definition, outsiders. In the traditional picaresque, the rogue is simply someone from the lower classes, but as this archetype has grown, it has become less about class and more about criminality.

Yes. Rogues are criminals: thieves like Robin Hood, swindlers like the Lazarillo...

Fraud, arson. You name it.

Getting back to the issue of the rogue as an outsider, they may have been one from the start, or they may have become one after attaining their criminal status. Regardless of the reason, these people operate outside of the law, the authorities generally give a shit, and, depending on your rogue flavor, may even actively fight against it.

One thing to note here: this goes a bit beyond Lenore's rebellious attitude. Like a good rogue, she derives enormous personal satisfaction from the thought of getting her way. The world has turned its back on the rogue, so the rogue will not hesitate to turn her back on the world.

In Lenore's case, this attitude of throwing all authority to the wind and actively ignoring any rules imposed on her is a mixture of personality and trauma. In the flashbacks, we see that Lenore has always had a certain disdain for protocol and formalities, but of course, after being locked up for at least a year because the rules of the society she lives in have decided to make her an outcast for her brother 's death, she no longer finds any reason to listen to what they have to say to her. The rules will never go beyond the feeling that she has agency over her life.

From this follows the methods of the rogues: opportunism is one of their hallmarks. Ingenuity, cunning, and creativity are common traits among these characters, something that is usually tied to their status as outsiders and criminals; they don't care about rules, so they think outside the box, either because they are highly intelligent or because they lack common sense.

Maybe both.

So, yes, when Annabel tells her dashing rogue, she's not wrong in the least. But there are more interesting things to look at here

The Gothic Heroine

When some theorists say that Gothic heroines are bland and uninteresting characters, it's...true. But there's a reason for that, so let me get that out of the way for a moment: the image of the maiden in this period is used as a symbol of purity, chastity, goodness, and her corruption, death, or disease works on both a literal and metaphorical level. It is like when you see grotesque religious images in horror movies, there is a powerful and disturbing charge in the idea of seeing something "pure" destroyed.

So the thing about gothic heroines is that, at worst, they are not characters who contribute to the story they are in, but tokens, quasi-sacred representations who are there to die, get sick, or fall victim to a villain who might sexually harass them. Yes, unpleasant.

But good gothic heroines (besides possibly having tuberculosis) are characters with arcs related to corruption, especially mental corruption. And this is where it gets interesting.

But we go from less to more. In her flashbacks, Lenore's physical appearance is almost exactly that of a gothic novel protagonist: pale, almost cadaverous, slender, languid in her movements (because, in this case, she's drugged a significant percentage of the time), and long hair.

Her background in this part of the story, like that of the best gothic heroines, is one of mental corruption: she is here, imprisoned, withering and losing her mind, giving in to despair. There are those who point out a rather strong resemblance between the scene where Lenore tears the flowered wallpaper from her room and the short story The Yellow Wallpaper by the writer Charlotte Perkins. And although this story is not gothic, it definitely retains the most important trope of the genre.

Another element in which we can find Lenore is in the Gothic ballad of the same name, written by Gottfried Bürger in 1773. This poem tells the story of Lenore, a girl condemned by narrative for blaspheming against heaven after the death of her beloved, who is later visited by the Grim Reaper himself to take her to him.

A heartbroken woman committing blasphemy in the name of a lost love? I wonder if that sounds familiar.

And if I had to point out one particular gothic heroine with whom Lenore shares important similarities, it would be Laura from Carmilla.

With the first, she shares two very important things: isolation and a penchant for women who can murder her, a complicated relationship with a gothic vampire.

Laura lives in complete isolation from the world, with the only company of maids and her father; within the first few chapters, we know that she can barely remember the last time she had the company of a woman her own age. Like Lenore in the flashbacks, Laura is something of a secret, hidden from the world (though for less horrific reasons).

And that isolation is broken by the arrival of an elegant, almost supernaturally beautiful upper-class lady who almost kicks in her door with a "Hi, I want to be friends. You'll like me."

Both Laura and Lenore are not afraid of the vampire, though they are not unaware of her strange behavior and will raise a puzzled eyebrow at her promises of affection, as well as her obvious tendency to insist on a fucked-up secret that they are in the middle of and can't share. Another important detail is that both characters have a certain difficulty in describing their feelings as romantic: both are very obviously obsessed with this mysterious lady who has come to interrupt their loneliness, but Laura never fails to refer to Carmilla as her "friend" (a behavior that the modern reader may interpret, with more than fair reason, as comphet), and Lenore is little more than that, at least until the mansion arch where the shingle falls on her.

Last but not least, just as Lenore is treated as "crazy," there are several events in Laura's life (such as her first encounter with Carmilla when she was a child) or that occur throughout the novel that are dismissed by those around her as her being a little touched in the head.

The courtly knight

Here it is necessary to make a distinction: knights are a far-reaching figure, but before and during the Middle Ages they mainly starred in two types of stories: the canta de gesta (which was intended to tell great deeds of inspiration for certain peoples, such as the Song of Mio Cid in Spain or the Song of the Nibelungs in Germany. This last one is the best Canto de gesta in history, I do not accept arguments) and the Novel of chivalry or courtly (focused on the individual story of the knight and introduces elements of the court).

What is the main difference between the knight of the canto de gesta and the knight of the court? Well... the latter is much more horny. And we are talking about Lenore, so you have until the end of this paragraph to imagine which of these knights we are talking about.

The first thing to keep in mind is that the Courtly Knight has a pretty strong moral compass: nobility, mercy, loyalty, and honor are values they firmly believe in; these characters are heroes, and that means that while they are not perfect, they represent ideals that are considered important in this time. And we're talking about vassalage, so you get it.

This is the first thing Lenore has in common with the knights of the court: her strong sense of morality. Yes, she's not afraid to play dirty like a rogue, but she's pretty clear about what things are important to her in that regard, and she's willing to uphold those ideals even in the context of Nevermore, which actively encourages its students to kill and betray each other.

However, the personal agendas of these knights have one important thing in common: the conflict between their own desires and their duty.

What are those desires? Well...

Good courtly knights usually have to choose between their love/sexual interests and where their personal loyalties lie, which, due to the era in which these stories take place, are usually their feudal lords or even kings.

We already established that Lenore doesn't give a shit about authority, but her personal loyalty is to her friends. And this is where it gets tricky for her: So far in the comic, Lenore has kept her relationship with Annabel a secret from her friends, and she has kept the fact that she wants to save her friends a secret from Annabel. A conflict that may eventually blow up in her face, and on the face of it, really befits a courtly knight (though if she were a real one, the Misfits might ask her to kill the Deans or something in exchange for accepting her relationship with Annabel).

To continue with this, we need to stop for a moment and talk about another little thing: courtly love. There are many definitions of it, but my favorite is the one that defines it as an attempt to reconcile mystical love with eroticism. Fun fact: these stories were written in the Provençal language, something that would associate romantic tropes with "vulgar language".

In any case, courtly love usually speaks of the beloved maiden as an idealized object, a figure who inspires an almost religious devotion. And the most recurrent theme within courtly love is what is called "love from afar": it focuses more on the journey in search of the beloved than on the couple's relationship as such (this journey can be literal or metaphorical), the knight has symbols associated with the pilgrim, there is a certain hatred of the image, the maiden is seen as an almost religious figure, and...

Yes, the color associated with the so-called "love from afar", specifically with the beloved maiden, is damn blue.

Now that we've got all that out of the way, it's time to break down why Lenore fulfills some of these things and why she doesn't.

Going with the tropes that are fulfilled, we can say that Lenore is on a more or less metaphorical journey. A journey to recover her memories and her identity. One at the end of which her lover waits for her "until the abyss claims them both".

Like a knight, Lenore is willing to make great personal sacrifices in pursuit of the things she cares about: she is willing to die for the people she cares about (the misfits) and for her lover (Annabel). The Living Long Thing is something the Knight don't know about, and since Lenore is in Nevermore, apparently neither does she.

With all that said, it's worth noting the biggest difference: courtly love features relationships based on vassalage and a huge power differential. Something that does not happen here. No, Lenore calling Annabel "my liege" doesn't count.

To explain this further -and to summarize, because it's a subject that bloody books have been written about-t he relationships in courtly love have two different levels of power: the knight must perform feats to be worthy of affection, and the maiden is little more than a prize to be won.

This unbalanced power dynamic is something that simply does not exist in the White Raven: an important part of their relationship is that both are equal in charisma, intelligence, and resourcefulness. The unstoppable force and the immovable object. Annabel is as willing to die for Lenore as she is for herself, and Lenore would probably go into berserker mode if anyone dared to treat Annabel as a prize.

Yes, you could argue that the balance of power is a bit weighted toward Lenore because Annabel is willing to make sacrifices for her that Lenore wouldn't make because she has some, you know, morals. But I think that has more to do with Annabel's character than her relationship with Lenore (that's another analysis I have a pin for when the season is over).

Conclusions

If the archetypes that Annabel seems to take note of are all quite related, Lenore, on the contrary, is much more like a mosaic: these characters have little in common and some (like the Rogue and the Knight) directly contradict each other. This woman is chaotic in her conception: opportunistic and rebellious as a rogue, pious and with strong values as a knight, and condemned by the narrative as a gothic heroine.

Another thing that stands out is that two of these three archetypes are traditionally male characters. Personally, I don't think Lenore is "like a man": her entire background and personal history is meant to work in terms of her status as a woman in the time period she lives in. She can do all the shit these male heroes do and better (though the hc that Lenore is somewhere on the non-binary spectrum is not a reading that conflicts with that).

And I use the word "hero" because another detail stands out here as well: yes, many of these characters are not only often the protagonists of the stories they are in, they are heroes within their historical periods and literary movements.

I'm going to do a third part of this comparing Lenore's archetypes to Annabel's because, believe me, there's some really crazy stuff to unpack there.

#nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #white raven #lenore vandernacht

130 notes · View notes