#either; or. A choice he didn't even know he was making - but if he had? He'd have made it all the same.
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suguru hated how infatuated you were with satoru, even though he knew you meant no harm whenever you spoke about him, it still made him upset. you were supposed to be paying attention to him not satoru and the more you spoke about hm, the more suguru went out of his way to prove to you that he was better than him in all aspects.
including sex.
there was no better way to prove that you were better than someone than to prove how good you were at sex, and that's exactly what suguru did. was this petty? yes, but he wasn't going to have you drooling out the mouth about satoru so he did the only thing he could think of.
“do you want to fuck satoru?” bouncing his leg while you were on his lap, this wasn't a joke or a trick, he wanted a genuine answer. horror coating your face as you look at him, no smirk or sadness on his expression, just his regular resting face, his arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb rubbing over your hip.
“no.” just a one word answer hoping he won't dig deeper into it, and he didn't, instead he did what he had to do to prove to you that he was better than satoru, the no showed him everything he needed to see. taking the rubber band that he had resting on his wrist and tying his hair back and grabbing you by the neck, giving you a kiss.
his hand sliding to the back of your neck, resting as you fully emerge into the kiss, his sweet taste on yours. once you closed your eyes to kiss him, the next time you opened them you were on the bed and holding up your legs for suguru so that he could fuck you.
“i want you to know… that you'll always be mine okay?” and with that he lined himself up and pushed into you, letting out a groan of pleasure, your walls wrapped around him and squeezing him.
suguru proving to you that he was the overall better choice than satoru went on for two weeks straight, him beating your pussy in until he was physically tumbling over from how weak your pussy got him. you didn't know why he was fucking you the way he was, but you weren't complaining, it was like getting a reward every time you came home to suguru bending you over the counter and sliding down your panties just to eat your pussy from the back.
he knew he shouldn't have been jealous but the line of you going out to actually fuck satoru was too thin, so he had to make you fucked out for you not to do that and he succeeded. by the end of every night, the sheets were drenched with three different fluids, and you were asleep beside him as he cleaned you up, mumbling to yourself in your sleep his name.
maybe this wasn't about satoru but more about him wanting to fuck you to sleep every night, either way he loved to please you so that's what he was going to do.
“no one else can fuck you the way i fuck you… say it.” while pushing your thighs into your chest and kissing you, tears in the corner of your eyes as he pushes deep inside of you, the tip of his dick pressing on your sweet spot making your heart beat faster and pleasure jolt throughout your body. that's all suguru wanted, he wanted to hear you say those words.
to hear you say that his dick was better than anyone else's and that he's the only one who could make you cum, and all of that was true, so he wanted to hear you blabber that while he pushed his dick inside of you with no mercy.
“mm, no one else can fuck me like you suguru.” the way you said his name sent tingles throughout his spine, he didn't want to slide out of you. he wanted to stay buried deep inside of you until your pussy remembered his shape, and only he could slide into you with ease.
“there we go. that's my good girl.”
after two full weeks of fucking you nonstop with no breaks, you never brought up satoru again, suguru knew all he needed to do was fuck him out of your mind.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto smut#suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto#suguru geto#getou suguru
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In defence of Steve Randle
Listen guys, Steve Randle gets a lot of hate in this fandom and as much as it pains me, it's valid. Everyone has their own interpretation of the source material, and fandom is supposed to be fun, so it is absolutely valid and ok to hate or love any character you want. You can hate Steve for many reasons or for no reason at all! This is fandom! That's ok! The story is for you interpret and love and play with and hate on to your hearts content. HOWEVER, to say that Steve Randle isn't an important character to the novel is simply not true, and to say that he hates Ponyboy requires ignoring or downplaying some pretty key moments of the book. This is especially true for those of you who love Dally but hate Steve, because Steve gets a lot of hate for being kind of a dickhead (which lbr, a lot of seventeen years old are, especially to their friend's little siblings) while Dally gets less for doing a lot worse (harassing Cherry, jumping kids, etc). This isn't to say that either character is better- they're both great, nuanced characters who have done bad things, but the fandoms attitudes towards them when they share a lot of characteristics is really telling. Even Ponyboy's narration about them is pretty similar- Pony doesn't particularly like Steve, and he was canonically scared of Dally, but they're both members of his gang and he doesn't hate either of them. You don't have to like Steve as a character, just like you don't have to like Dally or Darry or Tim Shepard or even Ponyboy, but he is important- and he doesn't hate Ponyboy, nor does Ponyboy hate him.
A really important moment in the book is when Ponyboy and Johnny defend Dally after he harasses Cherry and Marcia.
"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber."
This line here is super important. Pony and Johnny were willing to defend Dally after he sexually harrassed Cherry and Marcia- soc girls who they clearly liked and were intimidated by- in the name of being a good friend, because that is what's important to them and their gang. If they're willing to do it in this context for Dally, you'd best believe they'd do the same for Steve, and him for them. Steve can and will rag on Ponyboy within the gang, but he'd never dream of bad mouthing him to anyone else. Dependability is important to the gang, and Steve would never publicly shit talk Pony, and vice verca. Regardless of their squabbles within the gang, at the end of the day they've got each others backs. They're buddies. We see evidence of this at the end of the book, when Pony grabs the bottle and threatens the socs with it.
"You really would have used that bottle, wouldn't you?" Two-Bit had been watching from the storedoorway. "Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn't need to. You'd have really cut them up,
huh?"
The important thing here is that along with Two-bit, Steve was backing Ponyboy, no questions asked. Sure most of it boils down to Pony being a member of the gang and that deep rooted loyalty to one another, but the context for this scene is that Ponyboy was sitting on Steve's car waiting for Steve and Two to stop flirting with some girls. The three of them were hanging out- without Darry, without Sodapop. It's their school lunch break. We know Ponyboy has middle class friend's at school, or that he could've spent time in the school library. It was a deliberate choice to hang out with Two and Steve. He wasn't forced into it. Canonically, Steve and Ponyboy hang out. Never alone, but they're decent enough friends to hang out together in a group. Doesn't everyone have friends like that? I do. This isn't the only textual instance either where they hang out without the entire gang being present. Early on, Pony offhandedly mentions that sometimes Steve and Soda will buy him pop and teach him about cars if he hangs around the DX.
"I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars."
He could've just said Soda's name here but he didn't. Steve buys Pony pepsi and teaches him about cars, even though he gets annoyed with him when Soda invites him to hang around with them too often. And honestly, who wouldn't? I'd be annoyed if my best friend always invited her little brother along with us, even if I liked the kid. Wouldn't you?
Now, we do need to address the elephant in the room. I'm talking of course, about this quote;
"I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him."
I feel like very often people forget the context this quote comes from, and so it's magnitude is blown way out of proportion. Ponyboy has just been jumped and then immediately scolded by his brother who constantly makes him feel foolish and unwanted. He's already scared, embarassed, and defensive and then Steve goes and makes him feel even more unwanted. Of course he wants to lash out. Of COURSE he feels like he hates Steve in that moment. I did even reading it. But Ponyboy doesn't truly hate Steve. This moment is PEAK fourteen year old having a rough night energy, it's not truly representative of Steve as a character or of Ponyboy's feelings towards him. In truth, Steve actually kind of likes Ponyboy and is at very least protective over him. This is evidence by the previous quotes, but also when Ponyboy comes back from Windrixville, and is worried about the state placing him in foster care;
"'No, [Ponyboy said] 'they ain't goin' to put us in a boys' home.'
'Don't worry about it,' Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. 'They don't do things like that to heroes.'"
It's subtle, and not immediately obvious to the traumatized fourteen year old who is used to Steve's cocky nature, but this is both a reassurance and a very bold claim. Not only is Steve trying to look out for Ponyboy the way the rest of the gang models- by treating him like a kid, letting the 'adults' worry about grown up issues in a misguided attempt to protect Pony- he is also throwing in his lot to make sure nothing does happen. Based on this quote and the rest of Steve's characterization throughout the book its not hard to infer that Steve would fight tooth and nail to make sure Ponyboy stays safe with his family. Sure, part of it is gang loyalty, part of it is his devotion to soda, but part of it is because he and Ponyboy are buddies in their own right, no matter how much they fight. They are friends- and Steve is an incredibly important character for many reasons, but particularly to add depth to Pony's character, to the bond between the Curtis gang, and to highlight how the Curtis gang differs from the other gangs in Tulsa. Steve is just as much an outsider as the rest of the gang, and it's disingenuous to say otherwise no matter how much you may hate him as a character.
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Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...
Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:
That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.
Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.
Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).
Way has returned as Way the White.
As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).
Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.
And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).
I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.
Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).
Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!
#pit babe 2#pit babe the series#pit babe#jane watches stuff#will i ever write serious meta?#probably not#that's just the winner in me#never mind me i'm just so excited and i have so many thoughts#and i need a place to sort them
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can i request headcanons of any hxh characters your choice (preferably including illumi, chrollo, and/or feitan) with a crush on/unestablished relationship with a gender neutral reader who refuses to fully align themselves with anyone but has an incredibly OP ability that requires their blood or body (can shoot blood in like spikes, detach their limbs to chase down and drag back runners, use their blood and/or tears to heal wounds, can just regrow lost limbs including their head, ect.) that would make being on their bad side more trouble then it's worth
so every fight they kind of /have/ to get injured to use it. Plus their ability weirdly doesn't seem to use nen (chrollo can't copy it and gyo doesn't show anything, ect.)
and when they're finally asked about it they're casually like "oh yeah, I'm not human. I was actually created to be an unstoppable force that infects and destroys humanity, but that's honestly too much work. Plus you give me snacks so I'd rather just hit whoever you tell me to." and their reactions to the fact this insanely overpowered goober they've fallen for is a stray shapeshifting little abomination who could have murdered the entire human race and that they're lowkey lucky reader likes getting bribed them so much
(Sorry if that's too long btw, I thought you'd like the idea but I couldn't think of a better way to condense it 😅)
HXH With an Unaligned!OP!Reader
Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor
Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
i do not like how this came out but posting anyways lol...
Warnings: mentions of blood, experimentation and violence, reader isn't human if that counts as a warning
Illumi Zoldyck
the way you met Illumi was... not ideal to say the least
he was on a job to kill some scientist guy but little did he know scientist guy had quite literally created a monster
the day he was going to do his mission happened to be the day your power was finally realized
annnndddd Illumi walked in on you killing scientist guy and literally everyone else who worked for him
you had managed to pop your arms off and launch them like missiles, turn your blood into weapons and spikes around the room and also not die????? and grow your limbs back???????????
the weird part was Illumi couldn't sense any of your aura at all
he just assumed you were a super advanced nen user and were able to still keep up hatsu really well while fighting
which led him to the conclusion that he should either A. run away or B. try and get you on his side
when you noticed him just standing there you turned to stare at him like come at me bitch
"So? Are you here to poke me with more needles like the others? It won't end very well." "Actually I was here for the guy in the lab coat, but it seems like you did the job for me."
realizing he wasn't a threat (or trying to be because you know...you cant die) you let down your guard down
you ended up just following him around after that, not really having anywhere else to go so Illumi decided on plan B
turns out it took a lot less manipulating than he thought
he brought you to the estate and you agreed to help him with whatever for a popeyes chicken sandwich
watching how you wandered around the estate aimlessly and lounged about Illumi quickly realized you only use your abilities when threatened or bribed
so you become his personal little treat fueled killing machine
he takes you on missions with him because he doesn't trust you alone at the estate...
eventually he asks you about how your hatsu is so good and you're like wtf is that
and he's like What.
you tell him you we're pretty much created in that lab and they did all these tests and stuff and you didn't even really know how or why you had the power you did but you found out you did the day you met
and you were all like "they were so annoying and they told me to do stuff for free, I'd never kill you though you feed me :3"
he is so glad you are clueless and he got to you before anyone else because you could take over the entire world if you really wanted to
he is going to marry you ASAP
but again, you being clueless did not understand what marriage entails
and you agreed for the same reasons you agreed to literally anything else this man has asked of you
you are Illumi's most prized possession and no matter how freaky you are, he really does cherish you as normal people would their spouse
Chrollo Lucilfer
running into you on a heist was definitely unexpected
especially since you looked like you just got out of captivity
mistaking him for an enemy you shot your fist off at him and barely missed
and he was like woah im not an opp dw
then your hand grows back and hes like !?
he asked why you were there you explain that you were some sort of war weapon yada yada yada the guys got annoying you killed them and yeah
and Chrollo offers you to come back w him and the troupe and you're like sure if you feed me
so after the heist is over Chrollo takes you back to Phantom Troupe hq and then talks with the gang blah blah blah dismisses everyone and then takes you to wherever the hell and buys you whatever you want to eat
and while you're stuffing your face bro is like
"Your powers are pretty impressive. Mind telling me how they work?"
and not caring you tell him, mainly focused on your meal
and he's like huh what a useful ability time to steal it
one thing leads to another and he somehow gets you to touch his weird book and when he flips to where your nen should be the page is blank and he is insanely confused
and hes like "Why didn't my nen ability work on you?"
and you're like wtf is nen
and hes like oh my god I don't think this thing is human
so he asks
and you're like "I literally told you I'm a war weapon. A weapon created for war, but that's too much work."
now he is confused but also intrigued
he offers for you to join the troupe and you're like
"But being in a gang is so much wooorrrkkkkkuuuuhhhh"
you can literally destroy man kind but you don't because you're LAZY!?
you're not officially part of the troupe but you're practically an honorary member because you follow Chrollo around after your first encounter
and he decides it 's better than nothing
Feitan Portor
I can't think of a clever way for you guys to meet LMAO
umm uhhh idk maybe you were created to take out the chimera ants and happened to get deployed in meteor city the same time the troupe was hunting down the 'queen'
so when the troupe got there you were already fighting some ants
you look human enough but your abilities make Feitan think you might not be
soooo he tries attacking you before he ended up getting to the lizzard ant crocodile lady thing i don't remember what she was
and he couldn't beat you and you're like wtf do you want from me I'm trying to do my job
and hes like ??? you're not an ant?
and youre like no
and hes like oh and leaves you alone
then he throws the entire sun at the ant lady and leaves the building
he kinda forgot about you until he felts something lift the back of his cloak
and he's like !!?!?!??!
and he looks behind him to see you crawled under his coat and took the snacks he hides under there for himself
and he's like what the fuck
how did you even know he had those???? (you could smell it because you have super enhanced everything)
ok i just remembered his cloak got destroyed in this scene but pretend it didn't
anyways he snatches the bottom of it away from you and tries taking the snacks back out of your hands but you are quick to dodge
he's irritated but he just lets you have them he's too tired to deal with this
you end up following him after this like a lost puppy and the rest of the troupe is like ??????
but they can't get rid of you
and on the way out of meteor city you were like yap yap yap weapon yap yap created in a lab yap yap yap immortal
feitan could not care less about what you had to say but he was like ??? to the immortal thing
maybe you weren't a bad thing to keep around
#hxh 2011#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter#hxh#hxh illumi#illumi zoldyck#chrollo hunter x hunter#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#feitan#phantom troupe#hxh chrollo#feitan x reader#feitan hxh#hunter x hunter feitan#hxh feitan#hxh fanfic#hxh x y/n#hxh x you#hunter x 2011#illumi hunter x hunter
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🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧
Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible
He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.
They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.
The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.
Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...
The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.
They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.
"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.
He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.
Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.
He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.
But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.
But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.
A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.
"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"
The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.
He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."
There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.
What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.
It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.
"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."
#bg3#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#enver gortash#gortash x reader#lord enver gortash#gortash x durge#durgetash
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Some thoughts on the fox.
CONTENT WARNING: Sexual abuse, sexual harrasment themes mentioned below.
Please tell me if i need to add more warning tags.
So, about the hands reaching for him in the trailer...
This is just word vomit atp, since i havent finished my second playthrough and I haven't read much on him in the fandom/official studio posts yet.
But I think we are clear that autonomy is important to this guy.
He makes a point to hide his collar.
His only love interest is someone who's dedicated to giving others a choice (more on that later)
He hates people who enslave others(the Senobium maybe even Leander, if the fox's words are to be believed)
He doesn't like being called a dog
Which makes his abilities interesting.
He hunts by charming people, that much is clear.
He is vulgar at best, constantly trying to seduce and most people fall for it... even when he doesn't want them to. coughleandercough
Even without his deadly talents, he would still be coveted for his beauty. And I doubt people would have listened to him anyway if he refused them.
I wonder if he was betrayed by someone he trusted. By a human he trusted? Wasn't he hinted to be a deity once? If so, there must have been some people he liked. Even if he didn't trust easily.
Kuras states that the senobium was overrun with people who sought power and pleasure They don't seem to care about the fate or agreement of others, let alone a monster on their leash.
With that, the hands in the trailer seem more sinister. He smiles (bc he won't do them the pleasure of displaying fear AND because free meal) but idk if it's the sort if attention he craves.
The people who would want to hurt him that way dig their own graves really, but his ability is not fool proof.
If you recognize how stinky he is he has no effect on you.
Or he lets MC (&Mhin?) bc they didn't express attraction towards him. Maybe he seeks to punish humans who lust for him. He is strong enough after all, if he wanted, he would have easily subdued the player. Or maybe it's needed for him to feed.
Or maybe your soul tastes better when you are sad AND horny. Who knows.
As for Ais, I think his being different is really beacuse he values the autonomy of others. Not that it makes him benevolent, just that he is the least likely to force you into something. Either by manipulating you or forcing you. If you make a choice in good conscience then he just 🤷♂️👍
And for somebody like the fox who had their autonomy denied at every turn, such honesty and consideration was probably disarming.
Again,those are just jumbled thoughts.
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Thanks @vacationship for pointing out that Sydney initiates the first touch with Carmy in Review. As an obsessive person, I will analyze the choice to touch Carmy and the buildup to it.
(Warning: This might bring up some annoyance with Carmy. However, the tension and buildup leading to his explosion in this episode are incredibly well done. Looking back on the episode, it speaks to Carmy's character development season 2.)
So we fast forward to Ebra reading the review, revealing Sydney's dish as the restaurant's highlight.
Ribbon of brine, huh?
Carmy was already busy but noticed he didn't initiate eye contact with her like usual. The only time he looks her way is to shake his head in disappointment-hurt-anger that this dish she makes herself and that he says isn't ready. It gets a green light. Really, it's about Carmys not being genuinely ready to change for their relationship to develop. Carmy doesn't do this until fast forward - he loses Sydney.
Maybe the lack of eye contact tells us there's a disconnect, and there will continue to be a disconnect between them throughout the episode. And the GLARE carmy makes at Sydney. Everyone should already know shit about to blow up.
Carmy was ANGRY.
He's nodding in agreement, but you can make it out that he's stewing while sydney is asking for understanding, something he's struggling to give.
Sidebar: it brings up the importance of Tina's say hello to Jeff's friend. Carmy isn't feeling that connection - that friendship right now.so Tina saying that adds fuel to his fire.
Fast forward to more buildup, Richie and Sydney's argument. Carmy comes up with his baggage, ready to end the fight between him, but he is not much help.
Carmy intervenes, and there's still no steady eye contact with Sydney.
Oh and the importance of Sydney saying WE are learning (call back to carmy asking Sydney in 1x03 bridgade, WE want to make this place better, right?). Early on, they established their bond, but Carmy makes sure, maybe out of spite, to say the new system was her idea.
This is when Sydney really notices they are not on the same page. That he's pushing her away.
Which is what makes her make the unconscious decision to touch carmy. A plea to connect again.
Carmy stops like she asks him to through touch. Even though he was ready to walk away, he couldn't help but take a moment to pause even though they're under pressure with time. And for the first time, he really looks at her. His eyes come up even though he's still in his feelings about the whole thing.
That also tells us about Carmy's character. He doesn't talk about his feelings, which reminds me of episode 2x06 'Fishes', where Mikey had to practically drag out of Carmy the reason why he was so angry with him. When Carmy is hurt, he either explodes quickly or lets it brew until it's too late. There's no balance in his anger.
But Sydney helps with this. With their relationship, they want to keep the connection going, and in order to do that, with disagreements, there needs to be a goal to always maintain connection.
Arguments happen even with the most compatible people. It isn't toxic as some naysayers use it as an excuse to this ship. both strives to connect and carmy, although angry stops to give Sydney a minute.
But he still turned away and didn't hash it out with her. He didn't check early on if she was okay. This could be a lesson learned- a blow up may not have happened if he had given Sydney more time and connected with her despite his anger.
This gesture reveals a lot about their relationship dynamic, and looking back, it helps me appreciate Carmy's character growth. His desire to improve communication and become a better partner for Sydney? Sydney being the same way and their efforts to maintain their relationship is what makes the ship so compelling.
#this is why the sorry sign is important#its saying “im mad at you but i still love you#I just need a minute#okay?#sydcarmy#carmy x sydney
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Subspace & a reader who is a toxic player!
HEYA, FELLAS!!!
sry I didn’t have time to write, I was quite busy these few days ;-; but hey, now I have time to write! I’m just cramming out whatever time I have to finally rest and finish up reqs :D
honestly I like writing for you all, so I’m not a fan of going inactive LMAO
anyway, enjoy!
requested by…yeah, you already know who you are, you just don’t wanna admit it. I know who you are :)
-
"At last."
Subspace could feel the smugness radiating off of Medkit as he fired a crystal, instantly healing his teammates. Subspace had tried to chase after and take down the other team's Shuriken for one and a half minutes, only to get shot and taken down by Medkit himself, his sworn enemy.
Or rather, Subspace himself didn't try to take down Shuriken.
It was the player. The one controlling him.
More specifically, someone named (Y/N). He overheard the name when someone yelled at them to keep quiet…and judging by the tone, it seemed like this wasn’t the first time.
Deep down, Subspace never wanted to fight anyone. He just wanted to stay in his lab in Blackrock, tinkering on his newest experiments and inventions, improving the Biografts he held so dear to him...after all, the Biografts were the "people" he truly felt close to, the beings he saw as children.
But no, the creators of the endless game he was trapped in pulled him out of Blackrock for ungodly amounts of time, only being able to leave when the server was shut down for maintenance or when the game was closed for updates.
He rarely even got to see his creations as often, only being able to catch sight of them in what the players called a "lobby" or during one of the matches. Regardless of whether Biograft or Hyperlaser was on the same team as him or not, a familiar sight was always appreciated.
To the players, it was just an average video game where you use random characters and fight each other with swords and stuff.
To Subspace, it was hell.
He wanted to be left alone to work on his creations in the eternal winter of Blackrock.
But no, he had to be pulled out of the comfort of his lab just to fight people, most of whom he had never met before.
He didn't even have control of his actions either- everything was decided by the player.
The player. Subspace shuddered at the thought.
He always hated losing control of his body, watching helplessly as the player controlled his every movement. Controlled where he walked, who he attacked, how he attacked...Subspace couldn't even run to save his life if he wanted to.
Sometimes, whoever the player was would be nice to him. On those days, the player would make smart decisions to avoid death, allowing him to effortlessly eliminate multiple opponents by utilising his poisonous tripmines to shred the opposing team's defences.
In other scenarios such as this one, however, the player controlling him was terrible.
They would make the worst possible choices, immediately charging into battle even though he was meant to attack from a distance. They never used his crystals effectively, missing the opportunity to immobilise and slow down his opponents...they made so many bad decisions it was almost impressive.
Today, however, seemed a lot worse.
Not only did this one player, (Y/N), suck at utilising his abilities, but he would also curse him out for being "bad" and "useless".
And now, here he was. He was faced with a death screen with his limp body on the ground as Medkit ran past him to heal the rest of his team.
The player had spent almost two minutes trying to take down a SINGLE PLAYER. The amount of misfires on other people was impressive at that point...
And now it was all for nought.
"Damn it! You suck at this! I spend so much time trying to kill someone and I can't because you do less than 5 hitpoints for your normal attack!"
Subspace internally groaned at this. He was not allowed to cry out loud or make a sound outside his usual voice lines- that would alert the player that he and the others were self-aware about these phights being nothing more than a game.
He forced himself to keep his mouth shut.
Subspace was irritated- he wanted to yell out loud, retort at the player and get some common sense into his head. He wanted to instruct the player as to how to properly play him so that maybe, just maybe, the player could shut up for thirty seconds.
He was tired of seeing the death screen so many times in one match. By then, he had seen it seven or eight times in four minutes and was slowly getting tired of it.
He just wanted to break free from the puppeteer's grasp.
He just wanted to get out of the lobby. He wanted to head to Crossroads, down the familiar concrete path back to Blackrock. He just wanted to put on a warm coat amidst the everlasting blizzard in his faction.
The blizzard gave him a warmth in his chest...a warm feeling that reminded him of home.
"One last minute..." Subspace thought. One more minute, and he could rest for another thirty seconds...until being pulled straight back into another nightmarish round, another round where he'd experience the constant and tedious cycle of spawning, being controlled, getting killed, spawning again...
He wished he could go home, back to Blackrock. He did not like it here.
As the round ended, Subspace got a glimpse of the results screen.
He was last. Again. With thirteen deaths, zero kills, and only two assists.
“Darn it! Why’d I even pick you? Your damage output is trash!”
Subspace could hear (Y/N) let out a string of profanities upon seeing another loss. Just as Subspave thought all was lost and he’d die from madness after all this, he heard Zuka announce something- something he had yearned to hear for the past thirty minutes.
“Phighters- I got a message from the developers. Server’s gonna shut down, maintenance is happening soon.”
Five seconds later, Subspace felt energy return to his joints as he stumbled onto the floor.
Subspace tried moving his arm, then went on to flexing his fingers. It worked.
He let out a sigh of relief. It was finally over.
One by one, other phighters around the lobby stumbled and toppled over as they regained energy in their joints as the players got kicked.
The puppeteers were gone.
Zuka gestured into his van.
“We’re going back to Crossroads. Hop in.”
As the familiar tower in Crossroads emerged in the distance, Subspace finally let his shoulders relax. He was closer to Crossroads, closer to his laboratory, closer to his home…
Subspace wouldn’t need to fight his beloved Biografts like he was forced to in phights. It always tore him apart to attack his creations, the very things he had worked so hard to perfect…the closest thing he had to a true companion.
But now, he could rest.
Other phighters lounged around in Crossroads. Rocket could be seen making small talk with Sword
Hyperlaser and Katana could be seen heading to the nearest bar.
All the phighters seemed to want to have a chat with someone else before heading back to their respective factions.
Instead, Subspace trudged down the path to Blackrock without saying a word, exhausted and irritated from everything that happened.
Biograft spotted this and immediately sprinted towards his creator.
“I just don’t get it!! Why me?? Why do I always seem to get the most talentless players?? I can see their stats and half the people who play me are newbies!!”
Biograft listened. That was his task, anyway- to identify the needs of his creator and adapt to them. And right now, Subspace needed a listening ear- someone who would listen to all his woes about the day.
“Why am I even doing this?? It’s been a week without seeing a player that knew their stuff!! Dear Illumina, WHY?!”
Biograft may have been a robot, but he was programmed to understand what his creator needed and how to respond.
If he needed food, Biograft could cook up a meal.
If he needed a certain tool, Biograft could bring Subspace his trusty toolbox.
But right now, all Subspace needed was some comfort.
The duo trod back to the familiar snowy landscape of Blackrock in silence. Biograft knew that his creator just wanted to go home. He didn’t have the energy for this.
Back in the lab, Biograft listened to Subspace.
The lab was Subspace’s haven, the only place where he felt comfortable enough to let loose.
Subspace spent so much time in the lab, more time than in his own house so much so that Biograft would often worry for its creator. Subspace would then reassure it, saying that he’s just doing what he enjoys. Never once would Biograft ever see Subspace at his workstation without his concentrated expression, only changing when Subspace chuckled softly every time a component worked as intended.
But today was different.
Subspace was resentful of the player, and back in his lab was where he finally let out all his pent-up rage.
Upon entering the lab, Subspace collapsed onto a nearby chair, groaning in annoyance.
“That little sh-!! I did what I could to accommodate his stupidity, but what did he do?? Curse me out, that’s what!!”
Subspace got up, pacing around and stomping on the ground to emphasise his point.
Biograft watched his creator. It could hear everything the player said, and despite being on the opposite team, it could almost feel a sense of empathy towards his creator, deep down in his processors.
“And do I have a damn choice as to whether or not I get controlled?? No!! This crap is all part of a VIDEO GAME, and I don’t have a say as to whether or not I participate!! Can’t I like, call in sick??”
Subspace picked up a screwdriver and was about to hurl it at the wall…but he paused, looked at the tool, and set it back down on his workbench.
He collapsed back into the seat, groaning in annoyance.
“…apologies, Biograft. It’s been a rough day…and I finally get to let loose.”
Understanding his situation, Biograft’s processors whirred to life, processing the new information. The soft hum of the processor was the only sound in the lab as Subspace lay on the chair.
As Biograft’s processors grew silent, it walked over and put an arm around its creator.
For once in a long time, Subspace felt some warmth.
And it wasn’t from his usual coat.
-
thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
if you do have feedback, please drop it in the comments so I can improve my writing for you guys! :D
#phighting!#phighting#phighting x reader#subspace phighting#biograft phighting#subspace tripmine#subspace x reader
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The Rare Bookseller Part 49: Alexander's Task
Prev > Masterlist
tw: mind control, hypnotic induction, branding, possessiveness, drunkenness
September 1925
The walk home from the ballet had been somber, to say the least. Oliver had started off the night so excited, and he knew Alexander had, too, anticipating a lovely night out. But now Oliver was terrified, and his master was simmering in fury in a way that Oliver hadn't seen from him before.
"Not at you, Oliver," he said when pressed. "I'm not angry with you. You followed my instructions; you couldn't have done any better. No, it's my sire I'm furious at."
Oliver nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Is he actually going to drink from me, sir?"
Unsurprisingly, this made Alexander's fury deepen. He took a long time before answering. "My hands are tied. Certain arrangements have to be made."
"What does that mean, sir?"
"...Leave me. I'm in no state to -- we'll discuss it next evening."
And Oliver had no choice but to comply with his master's wishes, as the waves that usually drew him closer to Alexander were now pushing him away.
Alexander stormed off to his quarters the moment they arrived at home, and Oliver didn't dare follow. Instead, he did his best to comfort himself with a mug of warm milk and a supper of buttered bread. Afterwards, he retired to his own chambers early, curled up in his soft warm bed but unable to rest, flipping listlessly through books, unable to focus on any words and looking only at the illustration plates.
It was as if he could still feel the ancient vampire's unnatural grip on his body. He didn't want that vampire to visit, and despite all of his conditioning, he certainly didn't want him drinking his blood.
His blood was his master's alone -- and that thought certainly was the conditioning, stronger in his mind than any of his own convictions.
It was well past morning when he finally sank into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and waking up halfway from nightmares. By the time he fully awoke, it was already evening again, his room dark and foreboding, reminding him of his fears. Alexander's sire was arriving tomorrow evening.
He had to talk to his master. He had to know what to do, how to behave, to avoid being harmed. But when Oliver emerged from his room, flickering gas lamp in hand, his master was nowhere to be found. Oliver checked every corner of the library, the music room, the parlor, a dozen disorienting spare rooms filled with more books and storage crates and bits of random furniture. Either Alexander had left the manor or he was still confined to his room.
Even Oliver's need wasn't enough to overcome his fear of knocking on the door. One of the few rules of the manor was that Alexander's room was off-limits without permission, and the last thing he wanted was for his master to be angry at him when he so desperately needed his protection. All he could really do was wait, and worry, and take a long hot bath in the hopes that it would ease his worries, and inevitably end up worrying in the hot bath.
If only he didn't have to worry about any of this! If only he could simply be Alexander's thrall, spending his days in the library and providing his master with blood. He was meant to be loyal to Alexander, the perfect thrall, wasn't he? When he closed his eyes and imagined, he could almost hear the song calling to him.
His master needed his help, and Oliver wanted so badly to be helpful.
He toweled off from the shower, making sure to apply lotion to his face and neck, just as they'd done in the auction house. Back in his bedroom, he rifled through the wardrobe to look for something suitable, finally settling on a tasteful red frock. After all, if he couldn't solve his master's problems, he could at least try to cheer him up.
Suitably dressed, he had emerged from his bedroom and was gathering up the courage to go knock on Alexander's bedroom door when he heard a commotion in the foyer and rushed to see.
"Ugh, just drag me to the library and leave me to die," said Alexander, precariously wrapped around Miss Lily, who was dragging him into the manor with a long-suffering look on her face.
"I'll take you to the library, but I'm not going to leave you until you've done what you need to do," she said.
"Screw that. Screw all of it. Screw my goddamn sire and his goddamn rules. Sick and tired of him touching my thralls." It was obvious now that his master was drunk, as he grasped onto Miss Lily for dear life. "He was touching Oliver, my Oliver. He's gonna drink from my Oliver. Put his goddamn fangs in my thrall!"
Oliver's heart clenched at the way his master was talking about him. It was strange, to be wanted, to be possessed, but not at all unwelcome. It gave a strange sort of pleasure to Oliver that his master didn't want anyone else to drink from him.
"Welcome home, sir," said Oliver, emerging into the foyer, doing his best to look like a proper thrall. "Is there... um. Is there anything I can help with...?"
"Oh, now, isn't that just precious," Miss Lily cooed, while Alexander looked as though he were about to pass out.
"Look at him, Lily," he said with a tone of pleading. "He's so loyal, so goddamned perfect. I don't want to hurt him. How can I..."
Oliver's eyes widened. "How can you what, sir?"
"Don't you worry about it, dear," Miss Lily cooed at him, and Oliver could feel his mind soften. "Don't you worry about a thing. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the library? Your master will be joining you shortly after I give him a little pep talk."
"Yes, sir," he said. The calm he had managed to carve out for himself had evaporated. What was his master going to do? Was he simply referring to allowing his sire to feed on Oliver? He fussed with his dress -- a garment he still wasn't at all used to -- as he settled onto a couch and waited.
Perhaps ten minutes passed before Miss Lily arrived, carrying an old white tin. She was followed by Alexander, who looked forlorn as he sat down next to Oliver on the couch. Oliver could smell the alcohol on him, and his master wobbled slightly as he regarded Oliver.
"Can't you do it?" he said to Miss Lily in a tone that was nearly a whine.
"You know you have to be the one to do it."
"He won't know."
"He will and you know it."
"I helped you with Miriam."
"And I'll help you with Oliver, but you still need to be the one to do it."
"Do what, sirs?" said Oliver with growing fear. "What are you going to do?"
"You trust your master, don't you?" Miss Lily had settled in on the other side of him, and brushed back his hair to speak in his ear. "You want to be a good and obedient thrall for him, don't you, dear?"
"I trust my master," said Oliver automatically, Miss Lily's voice and her choice of words sinking him into a helpless daze. "I want to be obedient..."
His master leaned over and began to hum in his other ear, a song which washed over his mind and soothed away his fears. "You're my loyal and obedient thrall, aren't you? And you trust me."
"Yes, Master. Completely loyal and obedient."
"You love being obedient," Miss Lily coaxed. "Obedience is pleasure. You wish to serve."
With Miss Lily's voice and Alexander's song hypnotizing him so thoroughly, he almost felt like he was back in the soft leather chair in the auction house, his sleeping mind open and pliable and oh so very obedient. "I wish to serve," he said. "I -- I just want to help you, Master. I want to be your loyal and obedient thrall."
Alexander's hum was pleased, making Oliver feel so relaxed and so good. "And so you are, Oliver. You're just perfect. I couldn't be more delighted with you."
"Thank you, Master," said Oliver, floating in the bliss of praise.
"You're just so... you're too perfect. That's why I can't bear the thought of my sire drinking from you." His master was leaning his head on Oliver's shoulder.
"I understand, sir. My blood should only be for you."
"Only for me, yes, that's right," said Alexander fiercely. "Only for me."
"But you must obey Alexander's sire as well," said Miss Lily in his other ear. A tone of warning, but Oliver wasn't sure it was for him.
"...Yes," said Alexander after a long hesitation. "You must obey him, and allow him to drink your blood, even if... Just for now, Oliver, just for now. You can do that for me, can't you? You can obey him, because you are loyal to me."
"Yes, sir, I can obey."
"Obedience is pleasure," whispered Miss Lily. "You only desire to serve."
"I only desire to serve, sir."
"Lex, you need to --"
"I know," said Alexander, and his song changed subtly. Instead of inducing obedience, Oliver felt his mind being shifted, further entranced, his thoughts becoming foggy and far away. It was like falling asleep with his eyes wide open. "You're safe, Oliver. You're safe with me."
"Safe... Master..." he slurred, his head growing heavy and coming to rest on his master's shoulder.
Alexander was rubbing his back gently. "I need to do something now. It's important, and unavoidable. You are going to lose awareness as it happens, and when you wake, you will feel no pain."
"What..." He wanted to ask, but his mind was slipping under the waves of his master's song, the song that was now urging him into sleep.
"Shut your eyes, Oliver," said Miss Lily. "Become unaware of everything around you except for our voices. You won't feel a thing."
"Nothing but our voices and a deep, dreamless sleep," said Alexander. "Rest, now, Oliver. You're so obedient, so loyal, so good. You can rest. You can be still, so very still, as you sink into a place where you will feel no pain."
Oliver's vision blurred as his eyes began to close, leaning back against the couch as his master ran his hand through his hair. He was surrounded by song - obey, relax, go to sleep, feel no pain - and everything else was fading away until he was floating, floating in the deepest abyss of the ocean, where there was nothing but darkness and the rush of cool water and his Master's beautiful siren song.
He could obey. He could give himself over to his Master, body, mind, and soul. It was the easiest thing in the world.
Oliver wasn't sure how long he floated there in contented bliss. Time had lost all meaning, all of his senses dulled and drowsy. Finally, as if a hand was reaching down from the surface of the water, his Master spoke once more. "You can wake now, Oliver. You'll feel no pain and no distress as you wake."
His eyes opened, and he was back in the library, still feeling strangely disconnected from his body. His Master looked grim, but surely it wasn't because of him. He was a good thrall, and he had obeyed.
His shoulders felt cool, and it took him a moment to realize that his dress was gone, neatly folded up and sitting on a nearby table. His chest was bared, and there was a bandage just below his collarbone. His head fogged again, and he felt numb, almost as if he weren't allowed to perceive all of this.
"Don't worry about that, Oliver," said Alexander, grasping his chin and drawing his gaze up. "You were just perfect."
"Thank you, sir."
Alexander collapsed onto the couch beside him, as though he'd been through some great ordeal. "There, Lily, it's done. Now can you leave me to die a second time?"
Oliver couldn't help but reach out to him. "Sir, if there's anything I can do... any way I can serve you..."
"You've done everything you were supposed to do," said Miss Lily. "And no one's leaving you to die, Lex. You need to sleep it off. Oliver, you can put him to bed, can't you, dear?"
"Put him to bed, sir?"
"Yes, as you do each night, no doubt."
Oliver looked at Miss Lily, alarmed. "I'm -- I'm not allowed in the bedroom without permission, sir --"
Miss Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really, Lex?"
"I don't need a thrall warming my bed. Hot water bottles and steam heat suffice," said Alexander with a groan. "And I didn't want to get attached."
"...And how is that working out for you?"
Alexander groaned again. "My head is killing me, Lil, spare me the lecture."
"You're hopeless, you know that?" said Miss Lily. "Come on, Oliver. I'll hoist him up and you accompany me. Your master needs your help."
"Of course, sir, right away."
Miss Lily picked up Alexander as though it were nothing, carrying him up the stairs and into the bedroom with Oliver following at her heels. She expertly navigated the cluttered floor in the dark, freezing cold room even as Oliver tripped over discarded laundry. She pulled his shoes off and tossed them aside, pushing Alexander onto the bed and draping the messy covers over him, as he curled up like a sleeping child.
"Go on now, Oliver."
"Me, sir? What should I do?"
"Vampires are cold all the time, in case you haven't noticed. He needs to sleep, and your warmth will help him rest."
Oliver's throat tightened with the thought of crawling into his master's bed, and he couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation. He looked to Alexander for confirmation of what Miss Lily had said. "Sir... you want me to..."
"God damn it, Lily," he swore. "Just for tonight, yes." A low hum emanated from the mound at the center of the bed, one which drew Oliver near. He felt himself stepping forward, climbing onto the bed, and in a flash, he was sucked under the covers and surrounded by the strong arms of a cold vampire. "You're so warm. It's been ages since I've had a thrall in my bed." He yawned into Oliver's ear as his arms tightened.
"I knew that'd help," said Lily smugly. "Well, I'll be taking my leave. Good luck with our sire." She walked out, shutting the door.
Oliver, meanwhile, stared out into the gloom, his heart thumping. The bed was soft and smelled of floral soap and winter winds, and his master was gripping him so tightly it was almost uncomfortable. "Will this help you sleep, sir?"
"Hmph?"
"Um, will this help you sleep, sir?"
His deep voice was groggy, sounding half-asleep already. "'m never warm. Hard to stay awake when it's so warm." He sighed. "You're a good thrall. I hope you know that."
"Thank you, sir," he said, feeling warm himself from the praise.
"Almost the best thrall."
"...Almost, sir?"
"You should go to sleep, too."
"I can try, sir."
His master's voice hummed a sweet lullaby into his ear, and Oliver was immediately hypnotized once more. The fact that his master sounded so drowsy as he sang only made Oliver succumb to its spell faster. He was so tired, so sleepy, and his master was pleased with him too, inviting him to rest...
He was helping his master, finally. It was so nice to be here.
"You're mine, Oliver," said the voice in his ear. "My thrall, my perfect thrall."
"Yours, sir," Oliver agreed as he drifted off.
Prev > Masterlist
Next time, Alexander takes matters into his own hands.
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@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist
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#whump#whump writing#vampires#vampire whumper#mind control#hypnotism#hypnotic induction#possessiveness#rare bookseller#alexander#oliver#lily
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So. There's been a lot of speculation, and a lot of hot and lukewarm and some honest and valid takes about the new trailer and the potential of what might go down next ep.
I've been thinking thoughts, and I have my own personal stance on the matter. And no, I will not be 'taking criticism', because this is the way I view things in general, and it won't change. So this isn't me opening up a debate about this, this is just me sharing my personal views, which you absolutely can agree or disagree with. (So if your views on cheating are vastly different from mine, don't come at me telling me how wrong I am, I'm not doing that at you either)
That being said, here are my thoughts and beliefs.
Kissing isn't (automatically) cheating.
For me, it highly, highly depends on the accompanying circumstances. There are kisses for shits and giggles that are not cheating. There are kisses happening under heavy influence of whatever substance - something that can render you legally not responsible for a lot of things, so how does it make you responsible for a moment's poor choice?
There are kisses that are done deliberately with intention and feelings/high physical attraction involved, and THAT is cheating.
When we look at the Buck/Lucy kiss, I didn't see it as huge a deal as many of the fandom did. The kiss itself somewhat fell into the second category. But what made it at the very least borderline cheating was the fact that Buck made a secret of it afterwards. Had he said "Look, something happened last night. I was drunk, then Lucy kissed me, and I didn't instantly pull back, but I didn't want to kiss her again or anything. I have no feelings for her whatsoever and I will watch myself in future a whole lot more to notice any signs of flirting, which, in hindsight, there were. I'm sorry." - then I think that's still grounds for a partner to be mad, sad, disappointed, but it's not really full-on cheating. Not in my book, by my definition.
Emotional cheating is much worse than physical cheating
Being in love with someone and knowing it, imagining yourself to be with that other person, THAT is much more cheating by my definition than a fleeting kiss. And sometimes, depending on the circumstances, maybe even more than a drunken fumble or one night stand, but that is a very complex question.
However, emotional cheating means you're not really in it with your current partner, pining for someone else but settling for what you can have out of convenience, fear of being left behind or some other highly egoistical motivation. That really sucks.
(I've seen that take expressed on my dashboard as well, though with slightly different nuance to what I feel and believe, but pretty close)
So, taking these two of my underlying beliefs as the basis, what can I see happen in the next episode that would leave me feel okay with it, or happy about it, and what would make me feel iffy about it?
Let's start with the iffy.
Buck:
If, at any point in their drunken Hangover-movie escapades Buck and Eddie kiss, full on kiss (with maybe a little bit of tongue), and that kicks something lose in Buck, I would utterly hate that.
Not that I wouldn't find it plausible that a kiss like that would trigger him realizing romantic feelings for Eddie, but that it happens now.
Someone else made a long post about negative stereotypes about bisexuals, and I agree. This is the promiscuity/bisexuals can't be trusted to be faithful stereotype, and I don't want Buck to ever be seen in that light.
Also, Buck JUST (and that post mentioned that too) convinced Tommy to come with him to the wedding, that he's ready for something... only to emotionally cheat (because it's that aspect for me rather than the kiss itself) on him the very next opportunity?
"But Tommy and Buck aren't in a relationship yet," I heard someone say, and well, yes. But this isn't REAL LIFE. It's writing. Things are crafted in a certain way to form a story, and stories have a purpose. The narrative gave us an arc where Buck seemingly wasn't ready for a relationship with a man yet, where he fucked up and had to fix that, had to take a leap and take some courage to make it work.
Just purely from a narrative standpoint, it would be so inconsistent to reverse that healthy step forward just one episode later.
From what we know about the episode, it also doesn't look like he's breaking up with Tommy in that episode. A lovely, potentially dramatic moment where Buck kisses Tommy in front of everyone as a means of 'coming out' is highly implied/likely. So that would mean him being aware of some feelings towards Eddie and still going through with that. And yeah. No. I'd really, really fucking hate that.
Eddie:
If they kiss at some point and it kicks something loose in Eddie, and he then goes back to Marisol... I'd have much less of a problem with that because it could still be explained and justified with him just being in utter panic about coming out. It would match the catholic guilt arc, and all his previous attempts at conforming to heteronormativity... BUT, if the relationship just continued as is and he'd actively use her as beard that would be shitty, even for poor confused, repressed, closeted Eddie.
The Not Iffy
On with Eddie:
If that kiss brings something to the surface in Eddie and he then breaks up with Marisol one episode later I would not consider that cheating or poor morals or anything of the sort. He wasn't aware of it until that moment, and as soon as he is aware of it and has had a little bit of time to process it, he draws the right consequences from it and breaks off a relationship he's not fully in.
So this would actually be fine to me. This could be the kick starter for a potentially long and complex arc for Eddie to a) come to terms with his sexuality and b) pine for Buck from a distance, because Buck is with Tommy and c) eventually, when the time is right, for Buddie to go canon.
Buck:
The kiss itself wasn't a serious or real kiss. I'd be okay with it, if it was some silly, exaggerated "MWAH" smack of the lips kiss, prompted by someone or something around them - I dunno, maybe one of the women there saying "Aww you're such a cute couple" and they going in for it just for shits and giggles; or Buck gushing about Tommy and what a great kisser he is and Eddie drunkenly, outwardly jokingly saying "Hey, I'm a great kisser too!" and them jokingly leaning in for a smooch, again, for shits and giggles.
Buck afterwards doesn't even remember it because it meant nothing in that moment, and so he's neither seriously physically nor emotionally cheating on Tommy in the slightest.
"But Buck has deep feelings for Eddie. How can he kiss him and not realize them?"
Well, see, Buck has been around Eddie for almost 6 years now and not realized them. They are so, so far past that getting to know and falling in love phase that it makes it a bazillion times more complicated to distinguish those deep platonic feelings from deep romantic feelings (because, what it comes down to in both instances is a deep bond; the bond of love you feel after years of dating isn't that different from a deep platonic bond. Again, Eros vs. Pragma and all that).
But Buck is *in love* with Tommy, he's just entered that exciting, chemically turbulent process of falling in love with someone which, with all the newly formed neural connections and all those hormones overrides anything else that has long since been present and is only now presented with the opportunity to take on a new nuance. Of course he doesn't get it, and he likely won't get it until much, much later, when he's falling out of love with Tommy again for whatever reason, or they break up amicably for whatever reason.
And THIS again is something that could easily go into the iffy, because I would really fucking HATE the implication that Buck needs to break up with Tommy to be with his One True Love. I don't want this to be a difficult and painful choice.
IF (when) Buddie goes canon, I want them both to be ready and free for it and not accidentally pushed towards it, or struggle with a guilty conscience for it, or hurt someone else about it. (Marisol wouldn't count in that context as Eddie would have broken up with her months ago and gone on his own long self-discovery trip).
So yes, even if for slightly different reasons, and even if my views on what constitutes 'cheating' may differ from a lot of yours, I agree that any actual MUTUAL feelings realization right now, under these external circumstances, would totally tarnish the beginning of the Buddie relationship.
Which also makes me hopeful it won't happen in such a way. Up until now, the writing has been extremely solid, and Buck's coming out arc has been done with so much care. I doubt they'd do something that ruins it. (But I'm not 100% sure of it either).
#buddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 spoilers#this is not an invitation for debate#respectfual nuanced exchange and dialog#yes#but don't lecture me on my morals#I'm very solid and confident in them
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The Train Ride Home
Ranpo x Reader 💗
Decided a Rewrite was in order. So many mistakes in the last one.
A Detective, stood behind you, swaying side to side in all his 'glorious fatigue', trying to prove to you how tired he really was... but, well, you were on the train, heading home, standing up because there were no seats available. It would be less than ideal if he were to fall asleep right now.
"Why didn't we get the earlier train?" He whined
Sure, the Train was busy, it always was at this time with the work and school traffic - many other people also going home.
"Do I need to remind you WHO insisted on visiting the bakery and WHO told you it would make us late?"
He ignored you.
You hadn't meant to come across so snappy, but you were also tired, a little annoyed. Ranpo understood that at least, and left it alone, taking to leaning on your back instead.
"I'm tired"
"Aren't we all"
"Hm"
You sighed "you can't go to sleep yet Ranpo"
"Hm"
It got quiet between the two of you, almost too quiet. You took a glance back, praying to the gods that he was still awake.
He was not.
"Damnit" you cursed
Your stop was close, and there was Ranpo, snoozing away on your back.
"Hey" you tried to nudge him "You need to wake up, seriously"
He didn't budge. He was off and away in dreamland.
You didn't do this often, but seeing as your stop was next up, you saw no other choice you'd have to carry him home. Lest you wanted to leave him and loose the 'worlds greatest detective'
All things considered, it wasn't too difficult, but that didn't mean it was easy either. Guy was playing deadweight, leaving you to wobble off of the train with him hoisted up on your back, ignoring the stares of the quiet passerbys.
It got easier as it went on, the walk. You begun to resent the situation much less as you looked around yourself, admiring the landscape, encased in a warm glow, painted on every building and evert road; the occasional tree providing much needed areas of shade. The honey glazed sun was ethereal on the soft horizon.
You weren't aware of the eyes that watched you, taking in your individual beauty. Ranpo had woken up a while ago, and wanted to take advantage of your obliviousness to get a free ride home, no walking necessary. So he had taken to watching you as your wondering eyes shone in the light and the sun kissed your skin and reflected off your hair, like a halo. You really were beautiful.
But the walk had to end eventually. As you arrived home, he hopped off your back, swiftly snatching the keys to unlock the door, leaving you slightly bewildered.
"How long have you been awake?"
"A while"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know there were so many typo's and errors in the original one. Even one so bad where instead of 'minute' I wrote 'minimalistic'. I missed a letter and autocorrect didn't like that.
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Like a Doll? (doll!reader x Vox)
CW: Rape/Non-con, abuse, SA, mind control, manipulation, nsfw, smut, Vox being an asshole (he’s in hell for a reason), AU typical events
Note: Vox is manipulative, possessive, jealous, impulsive, controlling, and harsh in this AU. He can be extremely violent towards reader, and is consistently abusing them either way. He is not a good person! If anyone is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction from these topics, I recommend clicking away now.
Tell me if you all want more stuff like this, or just some smut in general! Also, good luck. This is… uh, quite the read. Also let me know if I need to add any other warnings!
"Hello there, darling," Vox said, walking up to me. I was sitting at his desk, mainly focused on my work. He noted how I sat across from him, in his office, writing on my clipboard. He felt irritated, since he wasn't receiving as much attention as he'd like. He pushed the feeling aside for now. "Busy day?"
"Yeah, something like that," I said, with a small yawn. I didn't really look up at him, I was trying to finish my work. It was clear I was bored, and a bit tired. "Just the usual. How have you been, my dear?"
Vox watched me work without taking his eyes off of me. He was feeling frustrated by my lack of attention and my indifference to him. Apparently. He decided to change his approach, just this once, and try a new tactic.
I didn't really notice how long it was asking him to respond, nor his frustration with me. I was his personal assistant, and as such, I was trying to do my work and make his job easier for him.
"I've been doing quite well, actually," Vox responded, his tone suddenly shifting from irritated to soft and almost cooing. He walked over to me, kneeling down in front of my chair. "How about you, though? Are you feeling a bit..."
"A bit...?" I asked, waiting for him to finish. He'd caught some of my attention now. probably not as much as he'd like, though.
"Like a doll?" Vox asked smugly. That was the first indicator as to where this would be going. The first hint as to what he'd do if he didn't get what he wanted. The word 'doll' had an impact on every one of his assistants, but even more so on me, since I was his personal assistant and significant other. The power that word held alone wasn't much, but if it were a apart of a specific phrase...
"Like a doll?" I asked, with a small smile. My first reaction was a twinge of panic, but that quickly faded. He hadn't used the trigger phrase yet, so I was still okay, still in control.
"A bit neglected?" Vox purred, leaning in close to nuzzle against my leg. His hand slid up my thigh, fingers trailing along the inside of my exposed stocking. "Perhaps I could be more... attentive?"
I laughed softly at his playful attitude. "I'm fine, that's not a big deal," I said, nonchalant.
"Oh, but it is a big deal," Vox purred, leaning in closer still. His hand slid up my thigh more insistently now, fingers tracing along the bare skin beneath my skirt. He was setting this up slowly, preparing to use the trigger phrase at the right moment. "You know how much I love you, right?"
"Y-yeah," I said with a nod. I blushed a bit and smiled. I gave him a quick, small kiss. It wouldn't be enough. He always wanted more. The action was a sign of how easily I gave into his moods, of how easily I gave into him. "I love you too, darling."
"Darling," he repeated, his tone dripping with affection. He leaned in even closer now, his lips brushing against my neck as he spoke. "Do you think you could be a doll for me tonight?"
"Yeah," I said, softer. I relaxed, almost immediately. He'd used the phrase, now I had to oblige. I didn't have a choice. I probably would've gone along with it either way, but now I had to. Now I wouldn't be able to resist doing as he said. "Of course," I said, my eyes glazing over slightly. I was always still aware whenever he used that trigger phrase on me, even if I wasn't in control.
"That's my girl," Vox purred, his lips brushing against my ear. "Now, why don't you be a doll and undress for me? Slowly." He nuzzled against my neck, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips.
I did as I was told, despite the fact we were still in his office, still at work. Usually, I would protest, or insist on doing this somewhere else. Right now? I didn't have that luxury. I was his doll, doing whatever he asked. I unbuttoned my shirt slowly, undressed slowly, for him.
His hands were gentle as he undid the buttons of his slacks, but there was a sense of urgency in his movements that belied the innocence of his touch. "I want you to do something for me, my little doll.
"V-Vox..." I said hesitantly. He had ordered me to undress, he hadn't ordered me not to speak. I could still talk to him, I just couldn't object to anything directly unless he let me. Saying his name like that, combined with the blush on my face, signaling embarrassment, indicated that it was a plea. The closest thing to one I could manage right now, at least. I was asking him to stop, the best I could.
He finally got his pants off, and looked at me with a wide predatory smile, "I want you to be a doll and please me." He said, letting his words sink in for a moment before continuing. "Use your mouth."
“Okay,” I said with a nod. I repositioned myself slightly, to make it easier. Like a compliant a little toy. I was a tad worried about how it’d turn out. We’d never done it before, mostly due to how uncomfortable the thought of it made me. Right now, I was literally incapable of going against my orders, or even thinking about going against them. I had to do it, whether I wanted to or not. I really didn’t want to.
He moved closer, his eyes locked with mine as he gently slipped his throbbing erection past my lips, taking careful not to force it too far at once, mindful of my gag reflex and the situation. "That's it, my little doll.”
I played around the head, getting a taste of him. Getting used to it, for a moment. If I’d been in my right mind, I’d have resisted, or bitten him. If I’d been in control, I’d be openly displaying my discomfort. But I wasn’t. I was helpless under his control, forced to suck his dick.
Vox moaned softly as he felt my warm, wet mouth around him. He gently pushed further in, taking advantage of my openness and lack of resistance. His hands gripped my hair tightly, guiding me up and down his length. "That's it...”
He then thrusted fully down my throat without warning. I would’ve gagged, but somehow resisted. A good little doll. I should’ve screamed or wretched at the pain. I couldn’t, though. He’d used that stupid trigger phrase and now I was all his.
My mind and body reacted differently. Internally, in the back of my mind, I was screaming. The fog in my head covered that up, though. It hurt, but I couldn’t let that show. I was supposed to be a doll and make him happy, I needed to be a doll and please him. So, I did. I moaned around him, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation, trying to ignore how he was cutting off my air. I sucked harder.
"My god, you're so good at this," he hissed, his hips jerking wildly as he tried to maintain control. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of having such a perfect little doll all to himself. "You're so obedient...”
He began moving my head along with his hips. It was suffocating, I could barely breathe as he used me. I moaned again, pushing those feelings aside. He’d told me to make him happy, he told me to please him. So I did.
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes rolling back with pleasure. His hand left my hair to grab mine, guiding it along with him, using both of our hands to control the rhythm of what he was doing. “Feel how hard you're making me?”
I moaned around him, automatically trying to say yes, like a good doll. I choked for a moment, then moaned as I throbbed. I recovered, moaning again and continuing. I could feel him about to climax. If I’d been in my right mind, I’d have prayed he’d pull out before cumming. Right now, I wasn’t. I was focused on pleasing him, and nothing else. Not a single other thought.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his hand clutching my head tightly. His hips jerked violently as he shot his load down my throat, choking me momentarily. "Swallow every drop for me."
It took everything I had not to cough it up. My vision blurred as I obliged, swallowing. It was so hard to breathe.
Vox smirked, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. "You're such a good doll," he whispered as he pulled out of my mouth, his dick still throbbing. "I knew you could please me perfectly."
I immediately hunched over, coughing. I gagged and stopped myself from vomiting. I gasped for air, desperately. He’d pushed me to my limits there, but we both knew he wasn’t done yet. He never was.
"That's right," Vox whispered in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "You remember who's in charge here. Now, why don't you be a doll and climb onto the desk? Be a doll and spread those legs for me."
"Vox.. Vox please," I said quietly. I wanted to say 'stop' but I couldn't, so it lingered in the air between us. I did what he told me to, despite myself. I felt dread building up in me. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. It wasn't the first time, but it never got better.
"Please, I don't..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Part of the rules. I couldn't directly object or protest to anything he asked of me. I couldn't say I didn't want it, I couldn't go against his wishes in any way when he used the phrase 'be a doll'. "Vox," I said desperately, his name alone a plea for him to stop. I was on the desk, I'd done as I was told. I wasn't in control of my actions. I hated it. I hated it when he used me like this.
Vox took a deep inhale, his eyes locked on mine as he stroked his thumb over your lips lightly. "You know, doll," he began, his voice soft and tender when it came to me. "You are aware that this is all just for fun, aren't you?"
I shook my head no. It was fun for him, but not for me. Tears stung the edges of my eyes, threatening to fall over. I hated this.
"Look at me, doll," he commanded, and when our eyes met, he brushed the tears away from my cheek with the back of his hand. "You are mine, remember?"
"Yes," I said quietly, my voice shaky.
He smirked at your response, his gaze turning predatory once more. "Then be a doll and behave like it. Be a doll for me, now."
I relaxed more, a sense of calm washing over me. My eyes glazed over and my thoughts became foggy. I was his. No protest, no panic. I was his and now I'd behave like it. I was still completely exposed to him, sitting on his desk with my legs spread open.
I almost wasn't myself anymore. I was his, and I'd bend to his every whim. I was his, and I didn't matter, my feelings didn't matter. I was his, I belonged to him, he was everything, pleasing him was everything, doing what he said was everything. I was his, and he was everything. He was all that mattered.
"Good girl," Vox purred, appreciating the change in my demeanor. He took his phone out, recording me as he stepped closer, his hard cock pressing against my exposed cunt. "Remember, you want this as much as I do, don't you, doll?"
"Yes, Vox," I said softly, making no move to resist. Blush crept into my cheeks at being called a good girl. It didn't matter whether I was in my right mind or not, being called that... "I love you," I said, ignoring the camera. In any other instance I'd be afraid, angry, panicked, but now? He'd told me to behave like I was his, like I was his doll, so I was. I had to.
Vox flashed a wicked grin at my words, his thumb gently stroking my slit as he towered over me. The camera kept rolling, capturing every desperate plea for love and obedience falling from my lips.
"I love you," I said again, slightly breathless. My body was reacting to his touch— something I would've hated if I was thinking properly. But I wasn't. I didn't care about the camera, I didn't care he was using me, I was just his doll to play with. A doll didn't have feelings like that. A doll just focused on being a good toy. "Please, Vox... please, I want you..."
Vox smirked down at me, pleased with my obedience. "You really are a good girl," he purred, his fingers finding their way inside my folds to tease at my sensitive nerves. "Now, remember what I told you about showing me how much you want it?"
"Mmnn.... yes, Vox," I moaned, my pussy beginning to throb at his touch. I gripped the edge of the desk hard, heat rising to my cheeks as I moaned again. "Please, Vox, please..." I begged, my voice a bit airy. "I need you, I want you... I’m nothing without you.... please, Vox, I want you so bad.... please, please..."
Vox leaned in, his mouth brushing against my ear as he whispered hotly, "You're so fucking pretty when you beg." His fingers slid easily into me, stretching and filling me with his touch. "You're getting so wet for me..."
"Ohhh.... Vox please," I moaned, the words falling out of my mouth. Things I never would've usually said coming out against my will. My thoughts were foggy, I could hardly think. "Mmnn," I moaned, pressing myself up against him. I begged and moaned for more, for him. "Please fuck me, darling, please. You're all I need, you're all I want, please, please. I want you, I want you..."
"Oh my dear, you have no idea how much I've wanted this," he muttered against my ear, his grip steady as he pushed inside me slowly, eliciting another moan of pleasure from me. "You truly belong to me, don't you?"
"Yes, Vox... Ohhh," I moaned, arching my back and moving my hips for a better fit. "Please, I'm yours, I belong to you, please," I said, overwhelming pleasure filling my senses. I made small noises, whines and whimpers, and continued to moan for him. "Ohh... ohhh... fuck! Oh god," I groaned, my pussy throbbing. "Ohhh, more... more, please.. please... I belong to you... please... I'm all yours..."
Vox smiled down at me, smug that he'd gotten me to be so submissive so easily, with just the use of the single tigger phrase. His grip on my hips tightened as he began to thrust into me, his cock sliding easily in and out as I arched my back and moaned his name.
"Vox..." I moaned, gripping the edge of the desk tighter, my nails digging into the wood. I was nearing my peak, again. I moaned louder. He'd set aside his phone, but he had cameras in his office, in this room, recording everything from every angle. He always did. I'd be crying right about now, if I could. I'd be screaming, frustrated, angry. But I was his doll. for now, and he wasn't going to allow that. So, I played the role he wanted. I moaned his name again.
Vox growled softly, his fingers digging into my hips as he took me roughly, throwing my head back with every thrust. "That's it, my pet. Show me how much you need me." His voice was low and commanding, his gaze locked onto mine.
"Ah, ah... ohhh, Vox," I moaned, my lips quivering. my hands twitched and I gripped the desk hard, dragging my nails across it, leaving more marks. I moaned again and gasped, feeling myself reach my peak.
Vox's thrusts slowed as he felt me release, his cock twitching and pulsing inside me as he finally came as well, filling me up with his seed. "My beautiful doll," he whispered, leaning down to capture my lips in a slow, deep kiss.
I moaned one more time, then sighed, taking in the blissful feeling spreading through me.
"You did well, my dear. Exactly as I wanted," he purred, leaning down to kiss my neck softly. "Come, let's tidy up and clean ourselves. Then maybe we could cuddle and watch TV for a bit?"
"Yeah," I said with a nod. I looked at him, meeting his eyes again. Mine were still glazed over, and now that we'd officially finished, I'd returned to the quiet doll I was, since he'd used the trigger phrase. He hadn't given the word to allow me to return to normal again. I was very much unlike myself because of it.
"Perfect," he said with a grin. He snapped his fingers and all the cameras turned off, done recording. He was pleased with himself, and how he'd be able to use that footage in the further to keep me in line. Not that it was likely that it'd ever be necessary. "Hm," Vox said, his gaze becoming thoughtful. He paused for a moment and ran his fingers through my hair, examining my expression. It felt off to him, empty.
I didn't lean into his touch like I normally would. I didn't nuzzle up against him. I didn't speak. I was still a little doll, with a small, perfect soft smile fixed on my face. Unnatural. He was used to having me- the real me, the one in her right mind- with him afterwards, after this.
Vox frowned slightly, his fingers trailing lightly over my cheek. "What's wrong, darling?" He asked softly, tilting his head to the side. He couldn't quite place what it was about me that seemed off, but he could feel it nonetheless.
"Nothing," I said lightly. Unnatural for me. Usually I'd be flirty after we fucked, or gentle, or clingy. Right now, I was none of those things. I was his doll, not myself. That alone was vaguely unsettling for him, in this moment. It wasn't so wrong to him when he made me like this to fuck me without my consent, but for me to be like this afterwards? It felt odd. He didn't like it.
"I'm just your doll. I belong to you," I said, reciting what he said when using the trigger phrase to get me like this.
"Ah," Vox's eyes narrowed slightly, studying me for a moment. His gaze softened as he continued to gently caress my cheek. "That's my good girl." When I didn't react, it hit him. His eyes widened and he chuckled, looking over at me again. "So that's the problem, hm? I can't believe I forgot," he said, laughing again. He looked at me with a warm smile and cupped my face gently. "Be a doll and return to normal, my love."
I closed my eyes and the smile dropped from my face. I leaned against him as I came back into my own. My hand twitched and I shifted slightly, trying to get used to being in control again. My mind was racing as the fog cleared from my head, emotions barreling into me as I tried to process what had just happened.
Vox watched as I returned to my normal self, his smile widening. He could feel the shift in energy as I leaned against him, trying to adjust to being in control again. His hands gently moved down my back, comfortingly massaging as he spoke softly. "There we go, doll." He said, as if he hadn't just overridden my free will to fuck me. As if he hadn't just raped me and recorded the entire thing.
I tensed and held him tightly. Despite everything, he was my only source of comfort right now. This wasn't the first time this had happened. This probably would happen again. I buried my head against his chest, still completely exposed, slightly dazed. I cried.
Vox wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as he could feel my tears soaking into his shirt. He didn't mind the slight discomfort it caused him; after all, he had pushed me to my limits once again. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head.
I cried harder, sobs raking through my body. I clung to him, seeking reassurance and protection. I stayed with him, despite it all.
#hazbin hotel#vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#writing#vox x reader#my writing#x reader#vox x fem reader#Vox x fem!reader#Vox x doll!reader#vox is in hell for a reason#smut#sorry guys#be a doll
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EVERMORE: Chapter One
Eddie Munson Fic - Evermore Directory - Word Count: 7.4K
Music blared through Eddie’s ears as he stared out the dingy bus window. “It's for the best, kid.” Wayne's voice echoed through his mind. “You know I care for you, son, but I have no clue how to handle this.” His uncle's sorrowful and concerned expression was drilled into Eddie’s mind.
It's been three months since his return, six since his ‘death’. The world has fallen into autumn, red and brown leaves adorning the trees that pass in a blur. “You'll master your powers and meet others like you. I'll miss you all over again, man.” He could still feel Dustin's tears soaking through his shirt.
Eddie wasn't completely alone on the bus. Aside from the driver, there was a girl, probably around 15, sobbing in the back of the bus, and a boy who looked no or older than 12 or 13 towards the front of the bus, staring out the window in a similar fashion to Eddie. His eyes were dry, but he didn't really look happy to be on this bus ride either.
Eddie was sat in the middle, a good amount of space between both the others. According to his watch, they were about 11 hours into their 13 hour drive. He glances over his shoulder to find the girl passed out against the window with dried tears on her face. He turns to look in front of him to find the boy still staring out the window blankly. He wondered if either of these children went through the same thing he did. Did they also suddenly gain mysterious, super natural powers they can't seem to control? Did they too do something unforgivable to put them here? He sighs and averts his eyes back to the window. The morning sun was peeking over the skyline. Did they always do night pickups? Was it to hide their shipments?
Eddie's leg began to bounce as they neared closer and closer. ‘Welcome to Vermont’ the sign read as they passed. He knew this was the best choice but that couldn't stop his heart from feeling betrayed and bitter.
Over the last three months, he was plagued with night terrors and migraines. It made him detached and irritable beyond belief. He lost count how many times Wayne was unfortunately on the wrong end of those lash outs. Every time, Eddie felt a pang of regret immediately after, but that didn't keep it from happening again and again.
Eddie was never this bad. He'd always been a good kid despite what everyone thought, despite his transcript. Wayne had no clue what to do when Eddie came back a full 180. The last thing he was expecting that day was to find his dead nephew alive and passed out on their front porch.
Wayne genuinely thought he might’ve been hallucinating. All the exhaustion had fleeted, and he rushed Eddie inside to keep him from prying eyes. It was a miracle no one saw him. When he woke, Eddie was too weak to actually explain himself, not that he even had answers to give. Eventually, Wayne just said to hell with it, and simply catered to his kid. Never in all of Eddie's years had he ever known Wayne to take a day off, but for Eddie, he took several. Three days and nights were spent aiding Eddie back to health. He fed him when he was too weak to lift a spoon and held him when he cried from head splitting nightmares. By the morning of day four, Eddie was at least able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Wayne made sure to have some food prepared for Eddie in case he got hungry during his night shift and told him to call if anything went wrong. He'd be back in a heartbeat.
As the weeks went by, Eddie became stronger and stronger, more than before. His night terrors didn't stop, but he was at least able to stop screaming and crying himself awake.
It was just two weeks ago that Eddie had done something he couldn't forgive himself for. He hurt Wayne.
He remembers the dream like a real memory. He was taller, bigger, but, somehow, he also felt lighter. He remembers looking down at his hands and seeing his pale fingers were replaced with slender, dark gray appendages. His blunt fingernails were now black sharp claws. His back felt heavy, like someone had strapped 300 pound weights to his shoulder blades. He remembers looking down at his body and being horrified. He's a monster, a real monster. His breathing started to pick up, and he began to feel lightheaded, a dull thumping in his mind. Though he was panicked at the sight of himself, there was this itching in the back of his brain. Something was there. He had felt an urge he'd never felt before. It was dark and malevolent. It scared him. What's happening to me?! He began thrashing about at the stale air around him, an unfamiliar roar coming from within him, rumbling through his chest. It was so boisterous that it rattled his own eardrums.
He was shaken out of his dream by the sound of his uncle's voice, “Christ!” Eddie's eyes rip open, and he immediately realizes his back on the ceiling. As soon as the realization hits, he falls to his bed, bouncing off and onto the floor with a heavy thud. Still in his panicked state, he yells, scrambling to back away from an invisible horror in front of him. Wayne made the mistake of rushing to his aid.
Feeling a grip on his shoulder in the midst of his screaming panic, Eddie swings an arm around, clawing at the perpetrator. “Ah!” His uncle's voice rings out in pain. Eddie's eyes snap up to the source, finding Wayne falling back, clutching his chest. Blood escapes his skin, staining the torn front of his shirt. Eddie stares up at his shocked uncle in terror.
“Wayne!” He yells, full of concern. He reaches out to him but is immediately taken aback when he sees the black, blood soaked claws on his hand. The tips of his fingers were shade gray as if halfway turned into the monster he was in his dream. He screams in horror at the sight of his own hand.
“Son!” Wayne's voice yells. Despite the blood rising down his front, Wayne closes in on Eddie, gripping his shoulders to grab his attention. Eddie's eyes find Wayne's, and he stops screaming. Tears immediately fill his eyes, and his uncle painfully brings him into his chest, holding him tightly. As Wayne rocked side to side, Eddie could feel the warmth of his uncle’s blood smear on his face and neck. Eddie sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe as his heart pounded irregularly in his chest.
Eddie closes his eyes and leans his head against the bus window with a dull thud. He could feel his eyelashes dampen at the memory of that night, an all too familiar anxious drumming behind his ribs. This is for the best. He repeats in his head. He can't allow something like that to happen again, ever.
Before he knows it, the bus is passing a ‘Welcome to Jericho’ sign then not too long after driving through a black metal gate that reads ‘Nevermore Academy’ at the top in a gothic font. The bus pulls to a stop into the driveway.
Wordlessly, the driver exits the bus after opening the doors for the few passengers. Eddie takes in the new location through the window. There's an older, dark skinned man with dreadlocks conversing with the bus driver, giving him a friendly greeting with a smile. Are those horns? The man helps load the few bags that were in the bus's storage compartment into a trailer on the back cart of a small vehicle. They give each other their farewells and the bus driver goes to tend to the bus while the man hops in the car to drive away.
“Hey, mister?” Eddie's gaze switches to the little boy who was now standing in the aisle looking at Eddie. He takes one of his wired earbuds out. “It's time to get off.” The boy says timidly. Eddie nods and stands up in his seat, towering over the kid. The little boy turns to rush off the bus as Eddie puts his backpack on. He glances around the bus to realize it's empty. The girl must've already got off too.
Eddie trudged down the aisle, ducking a little to avoid bumping his head against the roof of the bus. He walks down the stairs, slowly stepping off the final one as he takes in a deep breath. The air here was a bit chilly, crisp, but it filled his lungs graciously. He walks up to stand beside the two younger kids. They stand in a line, in front of a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a monochrome, light gray outfit. She began to speak a ingenuine speech, no doubt repeated a million times to every new arrival. Eddie tuned her out, just taking in her appearance. Her eyes were a piercing blue shade, and her lips were colored red, highlighting her smile. Her teeth were white and perfectly aligned. She had an unreadable aura around her. She reminded Eddie of a shark. Her sheer existence is just off-putting.
It seemed like her speech was coming to an end as she then gestures to a student beside her. “This will be your mentor, your guide, Mr. Sheridan.” She averts her eyes to look down at the young man standing next to her. He could easily be around 18 years old, most likely a senior or something. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled perfectly. He had blue eyes, defined lips, and a strong jawline. Judging from his looks, his neat appearance, and ironed stiff school uniform, he must be this school's ‘The King’ equivalent. He held a tight, polite smile. “Mr. Sheridan here is a great student who will ensure to take good care of you. You truly are in good hands.” He looks up at the official looking lady with a bashful grin before looking back at the three. He nods to the younger kids then looks over to Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looks deadpan at the guy and the student turns to address the full group.
“It is an honor to meet you all.” His English accent rings out. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I will be your go to informant to guide you and get you accustomed to the ins and outs of our daily life here at Nevermore Academy.” Jeez, this guy sounds like a douche. Eddie thinks, using the second scripted speech to get a good look at the building and grounds from where he stood. “Please, follow me.” Eddie's attention is brought back to the senior as the kids next to him start moving.
“Welcome to Nevermore, dear students!” The lady calls out as they walk passed. Eddie ignores the spiel getting rambled off about how their first days will be laid out, instead looking around at the campus as they walk through. He's enamored by the sights the school offers. It's something straight out of a book. His chest can't help but feel a little giddy.
The campus seems strangely empty for being as large as it is. As if reading his mind, the young boy raises his hand to ask a question, “Excuse me, Mr. Sheridan?”
“Please, my name is Henry.”
“Where are all the other students?” The tan boy asks. The student, Henry, gives the shorter kid a kind smile and nods.
“Good question.” He chuckles, “Classes are in session right now. You three arrived kind of mid-day for most of us.” He looks down at his silver, expensive looking watch, causing Eddie to subconsciously do the same with his much less expensive, rubber one. 10:36 AM. Eddie drops his wrist. “Actually, this class period should be releasing some students here in about the next 15 minutes.” He looks back up at the trio with a polite grin. “We're making pretty good time. Our first stop is going to be the administrative office. We'll get your schedules. You'll get fitted for your uniforms, and we'll get your dorm keys.” He turns back around with a motion to continue following him. Eddie trails behind a little, not necessarily in any hurry.
Henry opens up the door to the office, holding it ajar for the trio to enter ahead of him. Oh, what a gentleman. Eddie fawns sarcastically in his head. Henry nods cordially at him as he passes, following behind Eddie as he enters. “Henry, my boy!” A deep voice booms, naturally demanding Eddie's attention.
“Good morning, Professor Shaw. How are you? I have our new arrivals here.” The blue eyed boy turned to gesture to the new students, all of whom were staring at the horns atop the older man’s head. Man, this guy looks something straight out of DND. His deep skin tone complimented his golden irises. He stood quite a few inches over everyone else and was obviously built sturdy underneath his neutral toned, professional attire.
“I see! Hello, young man.” The older man directs at the little boy. “M'lady.” He nods to the teen girl nicely. He then turns to Eddie. “Mr. Edward Munson. I presume?” Eddie's brows raise, shocked to hear his name come off the older man's tongue. Great, I'm already known here by name.
“Eddie, sir.” He corrects. The man raises his brows slightly and gives a frown of approval, nodding his head.
“Eddie it is. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you all.” His attention is brought back to the other two. “I'm Professor Gardnal Shaw. I primarily work here in the admissions office, but I am also the teacher for Intro to More class, a course you all will undoubtedly be attending.” He smiles proudly. He lifts a hand towards the right side of the huge office. “If you would please, follow me.” He leads the way to a portion sectioned off behind a heavy velvet curtain, Henry second in line. The teenage girl was next then the little boy after her. Eddie towered over the both of them from behind. His eyes are forward, but he catches the young boy in front of him timidly glancing back at him. Eddie offers a ghost of a smile, not wanting to make the kid any more nervous or uncomfortable around him. The boy's eyes widen when Eddie's eyes catch his gaze. An awkward smile sneaks onto his adorable face as he quickly turns to face forward. Eddie holds in a laugh, curiosity overtaking him. Wonder what this kid got himself into.
As the group passes the threshold of the curtain, they are met with an older, glasses wearing woman. She looks like the nicest middle aged lady you’ll ever encounter the way her face lights up at the sight of new students. “Students, this is our lovely seamstress, Ms. Glenda. She will be assisting you with your uniforms.” Mr. Shaw announces with his hands clasped together in front of him.
“New arrivals!” She exclaimed excitedly.
“Good Morning, Ms. Glenda.” Henry adds. She turns to him with a kind grin, her eyes crinkling at their corners.
“Well, good morning to you, Henry. Very dashing, as always.” She compliments, motherly. The young man blushes, his bitten back smile extenuating his cheekbones. She turns her attention back to the new faces before he can come back with anything. “Now, who do we have here!” She adjusts her little, wire rimmed glasses and squints at the three. “A stunning young lady, an adorable little man, and quite a handsome young fellow, hmm.” The three all have their respective bashful, avoiding glances. “You,” All three lift their heads, but find her attention on Eddie specifically. Eddie's heart picks up slightly, nervous of what she may say next. “You, young man, are a bit older than the normal new arrivals I'm used to seeing.” She lifts her chin to look down the tip of her nose through her falling glasses. Eddie's brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flit from one face to another, awkwardly glancing at each person in the room. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Mr. Shaw buts in to take over.
“Sir Eddie here is the first of many to come. Our academy is expanding the age range of our admissions to include those who may have found changes later in life.” The man eloquently clarifies, giving Eddie a comforting grin. Great, ‘first of many’. Even amongst ‘outcasts’, I'm still an outcast.
“Ah, I see. Well, that's wonderful news.” The older lady says, voice full of warmth and welcome. She grins softly. “Well, let's get you all fitted! You've got a lot more to do today!” She smiles widely before pulling each new student in one by one to get them situated with uniforms.
The next two hours were spent in the office, getting uniforms, schedules, and supplies. Following the admin office, Henry guided them around campus, giving them a tour of the common yard, the libraries, showing them different wings for the different studies offered before finally leading them to the massive cafeteria.
The café had two levels. The main floor held a buffet spread of rotating foods, vending machines, and several rows of tables. The second floor was a balcony that had additional seating overlooking the main floor. On the far side of the cafeteria was floor to ceiling windows, presenting a mystical view of the Vermont countryside. “Alright, I think this is a perfect time as any to take a break and get some lunch.” Henry announced, looking down at his watch to see the time as 12:45 PM. “Take an hour to relax and eat. I'll be back to collect you three around 1:45, so we can head to the dorms for you all to get settled in. For now, help yourselves to whatever you’d like.” The uniformed guide clasps his hands together, gives them a nod, and walks away.
The two kids glance at each other then at Eddie. The teenage girl walks off first. The little boy glances back to Eddie after watching the girl walk away. He looks like he wants to say something, which Eddie raises a brow to, but ultimately, he scurries away.
Eddie sighs and follows suit, assembling himself a plate of food that appears too appetizing to be a school lunch. He spots an empty seat next to the massive windows on the main floor. He’s one of the only few not wearing a uniform, so on top of his obvious age difference, his attire makes him stand out like a sore thumb. This causes him to catch a couple curious glances from some passing students, nothing he isn’t already used to.
As he walks to the empty table, he gets a pretty decent idea of different cliques. Even in this world, high schoolers aren't too different. On top of grouping up by sport or ‘status’, one of the obvious differences is that some are separated by species.
Eddie had to use everything in him not to stare at some of the more obvious ones, some with unnaturally colored skin tones, some with horns, others with tusks for canines. It was incredible to see in person something he’d only ever imagined or seen in movies and books. Man, what the guys would say about this. He shakes his head, looking down with a small chuckle. He successfully makes it to the targeted seat without issue. He drops his bag to the floor beneath him and starts eating, “Mmmm.” Holy shit. The food here is just as good as it looks. He hums to himself. After that first bite, suddenly all the hunger his emotions were hiding came to the surface. His stomach growled, begging for more. He scarfs down half his plate before something out the corner of his eye catches his attention.
Outside, several feet down in somewhat of a courtyard he’d had yet to tour, there was a group of students. Are those real? The thing that caught his eyes was the glimmering of metal. The afternoon sun reflecting off steel weapons and shields. Eddie drops his hands to the table to watch the commotion going on outside. There were stairs that led off the slide of the cliff that held the main school building. There were two students walking down them with trays of food. On their uniform jackets were added emblems that took up most of the space on their back panels. It was difficult to get a clear view of the royal purple embroidery from this far, but from what Eddie could tell, it looked like a sword with wings where the cross guard should be.
Eddie’s brows draw closer together as he squints to try and get a better look at the group below. All of the ones sparring had taken their jackets off. The others that were seated and eating were too small for Eddie to see their jackets any clearer, but he does notice one person in particular.
Atop a boulder on the edge of the courtyard stood an observer dressed in the same purple and black striped uniform jacket and black pants. This observer had a golden sash hanging across their torso, fastened together at the hip, something only seen on royal families. They seemed to be yelling out orders or instructions ever so often. Standing next to the boulder was another onlooker.
This person had short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a hard gaze. Their white button down shirt was tucked into their black uniform pants. Even from this distance, Eddie could see the white long sleeves were struggling to contain their crossed, muscular arms. Jesus, who are these people? Eddie looks down in shock. Eddie’s eyes are back on the golden sash student as they hop down from their high point to go up to the two sparrers.
Taking one of the swords as they talk, they ready themselves for what seems to be a demonstration. Eddie watches as they start swinging the sword around, immediately catching the attention of all the other students around. They can be seen talking as they move so fiercely. Each swing of the sword is incredibly controlled and impactful. The fight is intense, yet the observer is basically floating, light on their feet, still talking. Everything done was talked through and masterfully executed. You definitely had to be their leader.
Without much difficulty, you were able to disarm your opponent, turning to the one you assumed the place of with a nod, handing them back their sword. Some of the students watching even clapped. Eddie looked on in disbelief at the scene that just unfolded. Wow. He looks down at his half empty plate. Those look like real heroes.
The rest of his lunch was spent taking bites of his food as he looked out the window, utterly intrigued. A cough of someone clearing their throat brings Eddie out of his trance. He whips his head around to see Henry the Guide looking down at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time I take you to your dorm for you to become acquainted with your new roommate.” He says with a small, kind, and a little awkward smile. Eddie raises his brow and nods.
“Whatever you say,” Eddie stands, bringing his backpack up with him. He stands an inch or so above Henry. He cocks his head to the side and gives him a sarcastic grin. “Dashing young fellow.” Eddie says, mimicking Henry's English accent. Henry’s small smile drops a bit. He sighs, a small glare squinting his eyes.
“We’ll be waiting for you over by the doors.” He turns and strides away. Eddie huffs out a puff of air. He picks up the remnants of his lunch and drops it off at a trash can on his way to where Henry and the other two new kids stand. “Alright, now that we’re all here.” He smiles sarcastically at Eddie before turning to the other two with a more genuine smile. “Let’s head to the dorms.”
Henry leads the three to the different student housing areas. They dropped off the teenage girl to her building, Henry handing her off to that building’s dorm manager. Next was the young boy Eddie would come to know as Anthony. He was dropped off at his door as he, Eddie, and Henry all stayed in the same building. Once he disappeared behind the door with his new roommate, Henry and Eddie were left alone. “Come on.” Henry says, walking away without sparing another glance at Eddie. Eddie’s lip turns up in a grimace.
“Hey, man. Careful with the attitude.” He bites back, catching up with Henry. He scoffs.
“Me? You’re the one with an attitude, young fellow.” Henry gives Eddie a hard look. Eddie is stubborn with his defiance.
“Whatever, man.” Eddie scoffs and looks away.
“Listen, I understand if you are not necessarily happy to be here, but you don’t need to be rude.” Eddie’s brows raise in disbelief.
“I’m not being rude, and don’t act like you know anything about me. You’re the one who gave me a weird look the second I get here.” Eddie shoots back. Henry sighs.
“Like Shaw said, we don’t usually get new students over the age of 16, so I was just a bit caught off guard. I admit it may have not been very welcoming, but I don’t think that should get me on your bad side before we’ve even gotten to know each other.” Henry goes on.
Eddie glances over at the guide through his peripheral. They enter the empty elevator, heading up. Henry stares forward with his jaw clenched, obviously annoyed that he has to be in an enclosed space with Eddie. There’s a few seconds of silence after the doors close before Eddie sighs.
“Look, man.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry. These past few months have really turned my world… upside down.” Eddie frowns with a thousand yard stare. Henry spares Eddie a glance over his shoulder. Eddie rolls his shoulders back, bringing himself back to reality. “I’m used to being Eddie ‘The Freak’. Ironically, even here I’m a freak among ‘freaks’.” The way Henry doesn’t even bat an eye at being called a freak is a bit strange for Eddie. “I guess, I just came in swingin’, preemptively judging you too early.” Eddie tilts his head. “You kind of remind me of this one guy, ‘The King’ of Hawkins. He was a pretty big asshole to ‘freaks’." Henry nods understandingly. “But, what do you know, he turned out alright when I met him again later.” Eddie sighs, “Sorry.”
“You know, you should realize something,” Eddie looks up, eyes on the back of Henry’s head as he stares forward. “Nevermore is a school just like every other, but most people here are coming from a place in your shoes. Sometimes people here forget, but outside these walls, beyond that gate, we’re all just freaks, monsters,... evil to the rest of the world.” Henry looks down the bridge of his proud nose with a familiar distant stare. The elevator doors open and Henry walks out without missing a beat.
They pass a few doors before Henry speaks up again. “I am your ‘mentor’,” He halts in front of a door, turning to Eddie, “I am not your enemy.” He looks Eddie in the eyes with determination, trying to get through to him. “You should know, even if we are not meant to be ‘friends’, I am still an ally. If you need help with anything, you can reach out to me.” Eddie holds Henry’s gaze, unsure of what to say next. He’s never gotten an actual warm welcome before. Henry’s lips form a thin line as he gives Eddie a tight smile before nodding once. He lifts a hand to knock on the door they are outside of.
There's stumbling and a commotion on the other side of the door. Eddie’s brows crease in suspicion at the noises, but Henry just sighs and rolls his eyes. The door swings open revealing a young, dark skinned boy with wide, shocked eyes. He was huffing like he just ran a marathon, undoubtedly from stumbling over stuff in the room to get to the door. “Junior.” Henry says in a warning tone through gritted teeth and an annoyed smile. Junior avoids Henry’s eyes by awkwardly staring at anything on the floor.
Eddie glances between Henry and the kid, Junior. Henry turns to Eddie, “Eddie, meet Junior,” He turns to gesture to the kid. “Your new roommate.” Henry raises a threatening brow at Junior. “Junior, meet Eddie.”
“H-Hi,” The kid’s voice cracks awkwardly, “Come- Come on in.” Junior turns to walk away from the door, going further into the room. Eddie glances one last time at Henry. Henry looks over to Eddie with a sigh and raises his brows.
“Good luck.” He mutters as he walks away. Before Eddie can follow up with Henry’s concerning final words, Junior starts rambling.
“Here, over here is your bed, obviously as it’s the empty one, and over here is mine, obviously. Um, I moved some things around, but you’re more than welcome to move anything around how you’d like, I mean, as long as, you know, you leave my side of things alone, unless you want this side, we- we can figure something out that works for both of us. Over there,” he turns to point at a door next to the one Eddie just entered through. “That- That’s the bathroom. It’s pretty nice, we have a tub, shower, sink, toilet, everything needed, and, uh,” Junior keeps rambling as Eddie slowly walks through the space.
It’s shockingly spacious. Once he passes the entryway, the place expands into a large, square room. This is nothing Eddie expected for a dorm. The full-sized beds are on opposite sides of the room with enough respective furniture for two people. Each side has its own bed, dresser, desk with a lamp and chair. Junior has a foldable, wooden divider next to his bed, blocking his bed from Eddie’s. On either side of the room were two archways leading into an extra individual area. Without being too nosy, Eddie could see that Junior’s side has a plant and a bookshelf. His side seemed a bit barren.
Eddie back glances at Junior’s side, finding it an odd mixture of neat and messy. The younger’s clothes were filling a dirty laundry hamper to the brim, but there was not a trace of anything on his floor. His mirror was squeaky clean, but his dresser had different, mismatched knickknacks littered over the top. His desk had papers spewed all over with multiple open books, but the chair was tucked in and pens, markers, and pencils were organized by color and size in a storage container. His bed wasn’t made, but he had shiny shoes neatly lined under the bed frame.
The rambling kid himself was set up in a similar fashion, his appearance is pristine, his white shirt tucked into ironed pants, shoes shined, necktie tightened and perfectly aligned, but man, the kid would not take a breath. “It’s nice to meet you.” Eddie interrupts whatever he was on about. Junior comes to a complete stop, turning to Eddie with raised brows.
“Sorry, I forgot my manners.” He shoots out a hand with his chin lifted high, back straight as a board in perfect posture. “Junior Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister.” Eddie slowly reaches out to shake Junior’s hand. He raises a brow with a small smile.
“Shaw?” They shake hands for a bit too long due to Junior not knowing when to let go.
“Yeah… He’s my dad.” Junior tilts his chin down to hide his face. This is the first time Eddie notices the small horns growing atop his head, just barely peeking out in his thick dark hair. Eddie nods as his smile grows. “Oh.” Junior drops his hand. “Sorry.” The awkwardness of the kid makes Eddie’s heart swell. It’s oddly comforting. “Uh…” Junior trails, seemingly trying to fill the silence but not knowing what to say.
Eddie walks off, heading over to his side of the room. His eyes immediately land on the bed, seeing his new uniforms and his old suitcase. That was fast. He runs his fingers gently across the striped fabric. “Oh!” Junior says abruptly, grabbing Eddie’s attention. He turns to see Junior running to his dresser, picking something up, and turning to rush up to give it to Eddie. “Here.” He hands Eddie a small welcoming gift. It was a gift basket with some pens, pencils, notebooks, and other miscellaneous school supplies. On top of it all was a purple card with gold writing on it. ‘Welcome, Edward!’ it read, causing Eddie to bite back a small smile. “I know,” He raises a brow looking up from the basket to Junior. “It’s kind of cheesy, but my dad said giving you a welcome gift would make you feel more… welcome… yeah.” He says. Eddie gives him a kind smile.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Welcome.” He says before walking away to go to his desk and sit in the wooden chair. Eddie takes a seat on his bed, next to his uniforms, and places the welcome gift beside him on top of the neatly folded clothes. “So, uh…” Junior starts, “You’re kind of old…er… older. Older than the usual new students.” Eddie chuckles and nods.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just curious, is all. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ve been getting it all day.” He tilts his head. “You know I’m not old. I’m only 19, going to be 20 this year.” Junior nods without looking up at him, instead focusing his eyes on the papers on his desk.
“That’s cool. My dad told me we’re taking in more students, probably opening up a new department or something like that. So, how’d you end up here?” Junior asks absentmindedly. The question takes Eddie off guard a little. What is he supposed to say? He turned into a monster and attacked his uncle after dying in battle in an alternate dimension. Would that make sense even here? Junior takes Eddie’s elongated silence as a sign. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell. Told you, I’m just curious, probably too much for my own good.”
“I… acquired some new… powers?” Eddie thinks of how to word an explanation without going too in depth. “So, I got sent here to try and help… control them.”
“Oh, an Acquirer. That makes sense.” Eddie tilts his head in intrigue at the new title, but before Eddie can ask for clarification, Junior bombards him with some questions. “Have you looked at any of your classes yet, seen any clubs, you know, if you’re into that? Were you in any clubs or sports back when you were in your old school?”
“No,” he chuckles, “No sports. I’m not a sports guy.” Junior nods. “But I did have a club I was leading, called Hellfire.” Junior turns in his chair to look at Eddie with a curious look.
“Hellfire? What was it about?” Eddie’s eyes light up a bit, now that’s a question he loved to answer.
“Well, it was a mystical gathering of the most daring and creative minds.” Eddie began with a smirk and squinted eyes, enjoying the familiar innocent curiosity on the young boy’s face. “Creatures of all kinds, from all over would gather to travel together and fight great battles, solve fantastical mysteries, and establish their title as heroes.” Eddie says in a theatrical tone, drawing Junior’s interest. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and looking down. “It was a club where I would host DND campaigns after school.” He smiled, reminiscing. Junior raises his brows and nods.
“Oh, I’ve heard about DND! Sounds a lot like Slayers, just minus the tabletop portion.” Eddie lifts his head to the smiling boy.
“Slayers, huh?’ Junior nods.
“Yeah, Dungeon Slayers Club, officially, but we just call it Slayers for short. It was kind of inspired by DND, but you know, we’re the actual ‘creatures’.” Junior explains. “It takes all the fun of DND and brings it into real life. We really train and fight and go on quests and everything. It’s really fun.” He beams.
“Is that the club with the emblems on their backs, the group of students out in that courtyard during lunch?” Junior’s brows raise.
“Yeah. I wasn’t there during lunch today. Usually, the lunch gatherings are just us hanging out during our break. The real club takes place after school.” Junior says matter-of-factly. “First official meetup of the season is tomorrow.” Eddie nods.
“Think I can come and check it out?” Junior's brows raise again, and his eyes go wide.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I mean, we’re always welcoming to new people, at least they were with me. I was the last person who joined, but, uh we’re not really the most popular group.” He rambles. “Slayers doesn’t really have the best reputation. It’s kind of…infamous? Most of the other students see us as a paranoid bunch of…well, losers, like end of the world preppers or stuck in the past people or whatever. I don’t know if you’d want to start yourself out by associating yourself with us. You- You may want to check out something else like the fencing team or- or something” He says bouncing his gaze around in one of his awkward antics.
“No,” Eddie stops him, “I want to check it out.” He says firmly. Junior, though a bit shocked, becomes excited.
“Oh Okay, well, tomorrow then, I can bring you with me to the club during lunch so you can meet some of the members and maybe we can get you to talk to the leader. They’re awesome.” Junior begins with a glint in his eye. “They’ve been heading Slayers for, like, the last four years, been in the club for even longer. They’re so cool, really.” He says seriously, nodding his head. “If the world ever did come to an end. They’re definitely someone you’d want on your side. They’re, like, really amazing. They can out fight and out smart anybody, I swear.” He nods in approval. Eddie smiles. I wonder if this is how they talk about me. I hope so. Junior turns back to the homework on his desk, “They’re a great leader. You’d like them, 100%.” He nods again.
Eddie and Junior sit in a comfortable silence, the loudest noise coming from Junior’s pencil against paper. Eddie stands after a minute or two and begins unpacking his things, organizing his half how he wants. “Do you usually study in silence, or is it just cause I’m here?” Eddie asks as he closes his last drawer and turns to look at the back of Junior.
“No, I usually work this way. Sorry if that’s weird, but- but don’t worry about me. If you want to play music or watch something, don’t worry about me.” He lifts a hand to wave dismissively. Eddie nods and walks away from the dresser.
“You know, I think I’m going to do a little exploring.” Eddie announces as he heads to the door. Junior lifts his head.
“Oh, do you want me to come with? I could help show you around.” He offers, but Eddie shakes his head with a wave of his hand.
“No, just continue with your work. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna wonder and get familiar.” Eddie says with a small smile. “Be back later, kid.” He turns to leave without another word.
As soon as Eddie is outside of the dorm building, he decides to just pick a direction and start walking. He walks around the campus, again getting some looks from passing students as he’s the only one out of uniform. He leisurely wanders around, eventually stopping in an outdoor hallway that surrounds a small courtyard in the middle of one of the buildings. As he stands there, he stares at a familiar stranger’s face.
You were sitting at the end of a wooden bench at one of the picnic tables. In front of you, sat on top of the table was a boy with ivory skin and brown, fluffy, curly hair. He was slim but obviously muscular and had a killer smile that you couldn't help but return. Sat beside you was the same onlooker he saw earlier, the one who stood beside the boulder at lunch.
She seemed a bit more relaxed and was leaning on her elbows that were rested on the table in front of her. Her brown waves were loose from their little ponytail and now let down, cropped at her shoulders. She was also looking up at the boy who was talking, quite animated, about something Eddie couldn't quite hear.
Though you didn't know of his existence and he had never spoken a word to you, Eddie couldn’t help but admire your smile. It was easy to get distracted by you. Aside from being a total warrior badass, you were simply gorgeous. The shine in your eyes, the way the world around you brightens with your smile, the curves of your nose, the creases of your face as it contorts with laughter. This is the leader of the ‘infamous' ‘loser’ club? It was confusing. Eddie couldn't comprehend how anyone could not like whatever had your stamp of approval. You and your personality screamed positively infectious and contagious. It was plain to see. Even from a distance, Junior’s fanboying over you made total sense.
Eddie stood in the shadows of the hall just watching you and your interactions with your friends. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. Abruptly he winces, flinching at the all too familiar feeling in his brain.
The sharp migraines he'd gotten ever since waking up in that place have started to dull, feeling more akin to an unreachable itch or a fuzzy static. He didn't know if the pain was weaker or if he was just building a tolerance. Eddie sighs, opening his eyes to see you and your friends standing and collecting your things. Before any of you can notice his presence, he takes his leave, disappearing out of the courtyard corridors and closing in on a new found back exit off campus.
Eddie walks along the road that leads up to the campus before he makes his way into the wooded area that lines the pavement. Once he feels he's gone far enough, the buzzing itch returns. He groans, annoyed at the feeling.
He knows he's alone out here, but he can't help himself from looking around him to see if anyone is watching. Once he decides the coast is clear, he kneels down, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He reaches a hand out and rests it on the massive trunk of the fallen tree he'd stopped in front of. He takes deep breaths during the entire exchange, feeling the wood beneath his fingers shift.
The feeling of a numb rush floods his veins as the headache dissipates. He knows that means he's done right. He opens his eyes, seeing the newly opened glowing gate. Again, he looks around him before looking back at the portal. Every time he opens a new door between worlds, that area in the back of his brain tells him he's done something right, but his heart still makes him feel like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, constantly scared he's going to get caught doing something he's not supposed to.
One of these new found powers of his was the ability to open passages from this world to the other. At first, it felt wrong. There were so many bad memories there, but he'd always felt compelled to open these doors. Now, it's more so akin to a guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn't enjoy, but he can't resist. It calls to him. Plus if Vecna is dead, what is so wrong about it?
Evermore Tag List (OPEN):
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#joseph quinn#swiss fics#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x oc#kas!eddie munson x reader#kas!eddie munson#kas!eddie#evermore swiss fic#stranger things au#eddie munson au#eddie munson swiss fics
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Thinking about Vulcans prizing “calm” over “happiness”.
Like how humans look back on their childhood and remember how happy it was - joyful days spent running around in the sun, getting into a bit of trouble, laughing with peers and family - that’s how they know it was a good one.
Meanwhile Vulcans might look back on their childhood and remember how peaceful it was. Quiet days spent studying, the warm glow of candlelit lessons in caves, getting along smoothly with ones peers - that’s how they know it was a good one.
Humans typically chose their friends and romantic partners based on if this person makes them feel happy above all.
The question of “Do you like being with them?” is interpreted to mean “Does being with them make you feel happy?”
But since Vulcans don’t experience (or strive for) happiness there would have to be some other parameter.
So I was thinking about like, what is a good relationship to a Vulcan?
There’s obviously a big emphasis on ‘togetherness’ in Vulcan unions. The Pon Farr ritual Tuvok does with his [hologram] wife involves them committing to becoming “Two bodies one mind” and it’s stated that they give and receive from each other all that they are. There’s also of course the iconic “Never and always touching and touched”. This is all (as was said during T’Pol & Koss’ wedding) “The Vulcan heart, the Vulcan soul, this is our way.”
Vulcans are also (ENT) expected to live together for at least a year after being married - I imagine so that they can bond with and get to know one another.
In SNW T’Pring wants for Spock to honor the commitments he makes to her so in that case T’Pring values Spock keeping his word to her and placing her above other things.
I see a bit of Tuvok in that, where he prizes his commitment to T’Pel over anything else to the point where he’d nearly rather die than break it:
(Even though he eventually agrees to having sex with a hologram it MUST be of his wife and he lets Tom/The Audience know that he will NOT be making a habit of it. There’s no ironclad logical reason for him to react this way as a hologram is not a person but his commitment to T’Pel seems to take precedence and I believe that’s his reasoning. His bond with T’Pel is logical, sustaining and important to him and he’s loath to break it over some bodily need. some desire that will pass even if it kills him.) <- By this way of thinking, betraying T’Pel would be the emotional choice while remaining loyal to her is remaining loyal to his logical self.
A strong emphasis on loyalty to one’s mate seems to be a common Vulcan trait. In the beginning this seems to be rooted in tradition but later on its probably assumed that the couple will be loyal to one another out of some sort of actual connection between two people as opposed to pure obligation.
In ENT T’Pol says that a certain degree of “affection” is eventually expected to happen within a marriage (though the way she says it makes me think this doesn’t always occur and isn’t necessarily The Goal) and her mother says that she and her husband developed a “deep connection” to one another.
All this makes me think that a connection and a sense of ‘togetherness’ or ‘compatibility’ would also be prized over more emotional things like a passion for one another. It’s a partnership above all and that would be prized over a romantic union.
It makes me think of Vulcans’ roots in violence and war. Maybe this commitment to a steady togetherness, two people who don’t know each other being able to work together so seamlessly they nearly become one, is a way to show they’ve moved beyond that despite the pon farr remaining.
Vulcans are a naturally very emotional species. Someone who incites that would probably not be seen as someone you should spend your time with. Someone who makes your heart pound, sets you ablaze, fills you with passion - that sounds like a bad Vulcan time v_v
Tuvok says as much when he talks about how he was struck with “shon-ha’lock”. Humans wouldn’t see anything wrong with having a crush on someone (and indeed in that episode Tom only comes to the conclusion that it’s a shame Tuvok couldn’t act on these emotions) but it’s obvious that even a teenaged crush when uncontrolled can become a very big problem to a Vulcan.
In one of the Star Trek Novels Tuvok even stops being friends with and talking to a girl because she tearfully admits she has feelings for him and he sees that her feelings for him cause her pain.
Instead of thinking “Oh, she really likes me, good! We’re close friends so maybe we can make this work.” or even “I don’t like her romantically but since we’re close friends we can work through it.”
Tuvok thinks “Oh, she really likes me. That must be causing her to become very emotional and I can see she’s clearly upset. I’ll remove myself from her life so my presence doesn’t incite those emotions anymore.”
And while him flat out just cutting himself out of her life might seem weird and kind of cruel and a frankly hilarious reaction to someone confessing their love to you - I also think it’s something he thought of as a kindness. If his presence harms her (stirs up emotions in her) then he will remove himself to keep from harming her.
Along that vein, calmness or the absence of strong emotions would be a good relationship and one worth staying in. Not that there can’t be any emotions (Tuvok and T’Les obviously care[d] deeply for their respective spouses) but that they must be controllable and able to be cast aside in the face of logic.
I also think that “knowing” the other person would be considered very important (after marriage of course). If you’re to operate as a partnership, a team, and especially if you’re both telepaths you should be able to know your spouse pretty damn well. I see T’Pring attempt to do this in SNW where she is constantly fighting to get to know Spock which Spock self-consciously discourages since he’s been told/shown that his human side is unappealing to Vulcans.
But yeah man idk...just picturing a Vulcan and a human talking for hours...walking along the beach...sleeping side by side...getting to know one another...and at the end of it all one says “You make me feel happy” and the other says “Your presence calms me” and it means, essentially, the same thing.
#star trek#vulcans#Flipside to humans seeing Vulcan relationships as frighteningly cold and formal: where's the choice? the autonomy? the love!#Vulcans seeing Human relationships as exhaustingly turbulent meandering and estranged: where's the union? the commitment? the connection!#In the star trek universe my only contribution is that I write a book titled 'Vulcan-Human Relationships: Peace & Love'#and it's never important to any story it's just a background gag#Vulcan: Is that your husband? / Human: HUSBAND?? Haha we've only been dating like a year or two. / Vulcan: I can't with this. I have to go.#I don't ever know what to call these things#ummmmmmmmmmm I hope I'm making any sense#alien affections and value systems my beloved....#people who earnestly 100% do NOT desire human concepts of 'love' or 'happiness' - INTERESTING!!!!!#I like Tuvok a lot when i think about this bc he has a Vulcan spouse whom he cherishes while every other main Vulcan has either:#A human love interest and/or A vulcan spouse they don't want to marry#WHICH IS WHY I WISH. THEY HAD EXPLORED TUVOK'S RELATIONSHIP W ITH HIS WIFE. EVEN A ///LITTLE//// BIT.#-chewing at the walls- BUT ITS FINE. IT'S FINE THAT THEY DIDN'T AT ALL. /lie
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The thing about "two sides of the same coin" is - you can only ever see one side.
Look: the coin is in the air. Flip, flip, flip. One face, then the other. One side up, twinkling in the light; one side down, obscured in shadow.
But at least the coin is still spinning.
At least they're still both there, almost meeting, two parts of a whole - flip, flip, flip.
But the coin was always going to land eventually.
#like he was hiding in the shadows to make sure arthur could shine.#because if he'd taken his rightful place - leader of the druids. uniter of magic. - they'd have been on opposite sides quite more literally#fighting to be the one on top when the penny drops.#like it was never 'unite the lands of albion and return magic to the lands'.#either; or. A choice he didn't even know he was making - but if he had? He'd have made it all the same.#merlin#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#LOOK I dunno if any of this is canon i cannot handle watching the last three episodes#but judging from the fandom response i suspect it isn't
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Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....
#I had SO MUCH POTENTIAL and I SQUANDERED IT!! weak ass third grade PUSSY! Your life could have been SO SICK!!#or you could at least be addicted to cocain or something interesting like that!! Boring ass goody two shoes always just staying home doing#NOTHING bitch make a REAL FRIEND go to a God Damn PARTY live a little instead of just hiding in the closet eating saltine crackers for years#waiting for it to be quiet outside before you ever even toed the line#mentally ill self-isolating motherfucker#you could have shrugged it off you could have GROWN A PAIR and FOUGHT BACK but you just ran and cried for mommy#victim complex little bitch baby always whining and exaggerating and making shit up fucking LIAR I am you and I KNOW what you did and I know#you knew it wasn't the truth and you regretted it the moment it came out of uour mouth but once you'd said it you just swallowed it back and#doubled down incriminating or discrediting others with your lies. For why? Because you didn't like them? You could have ruined someone's#life you wouldn't have hesitated mayhe you did and don't even remember because you cant keep your mouth shut with your pants ablaze#manipulative little shit and to WHAT END? Pity? Sympathy? Attention? Entertainment?? What was even going on in your stupid ugly head?#This is a callout post for my third grade self that possessed demon ass evil nine year old. That kid drowned anthills in olive oil and#poisoned a wild animal once. That kid cut plants just to see if they oozed. That kid modified her whole ass personality on a dime for a boy#she had a crush on. INSTANTLY dropped a LIFELONG CULTURAL ALLEGIANCE (thats what football teams were like back then in our town) because he#said he had the opposite allegiance??? What the fuck? girl had NO integrity none zip zilch.#No empthy either that kid looked at everyone else on earth like they were friggin space aliens and she was the only one with Real feelings.#bitch literally thought like 'I have Feelings they just have Reactions' bitch what the fuckkkkk#that nine year old was fucked the hell up!!!#and for literally NO REASON!! No cause!! Just born fucking evil and weird. jesus fuck.#Evil ass bitch caused her autistic brother months of nightmares and then laughed about it and wrote poetry about how evil he was because he?#was a kid??? Normal sibling rivalry taken way way way too far defamatory ass statements#and this girl had NO CONSEQUENCES because she could lie and manipulate her way out of ANYTHING she had the baby eyes and the helpless charm#and played dumb soooo well . read people like some calculative evil AI scanning their faces for microexpressions and overanalyzing each word#choice like holy shit. its not That Deep. pretentious shit trying to play 5D chess on a checkers board.#Manipulating shit just to see what happens?? zero awareness?? no asking just skipping straight to testing for yourself??#'What happens if I step on this' it fucking breaks 'what does that taste like?' it's not fucking yours to mess with 'if I hit this person#how will they respond?' they'll be upset use your goddamn judgement you are NINE not TWO do you even care a little about any other person??#Are you just living in some other reality???#callout post for the fucking demon child inside of me#im so goddamn problematic I'm so so so deeply mentally disturbed and broken for no reason
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