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#he'd never have survived otherwise
celluloidbroomcloset · 5 months
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I was trying to capture something else then accidentally made this gif of Stede starting a descent into alcoholic depression.
Yeah, the poor guy fumbled, but dear God did it nearly destroy him.
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writer-in-theory · 1 year
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"It's a wonder Steve's survived this long, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie hissed.
Eddie hasn't stopped pacing the hospital waiting room ever since Steve was taken back for 'testing'. The doctors had listed out various scans but there were too many acronyms to keep track of. All Eddie knew was that Steve had been hiding his pain for at least a day, maybe longer, until he collapsed at work with Robin.
That was the second worst call Eddie had ever gotten in his life.
"Harrington?" the doctor called out then, holding onto a metal clipboard tightly and looking around the busy emergency room. In an instant Eddie was on his feet, practically sprinting to where the doctor was standing.
"How is he, doc? Get to keep all his fingers?" He wanted to joke, but the words fell flat in the sterility of the room. The last time he'd been here had been after...No. The Upside Down had long since been closed off from their world and Vecna was disintegrated into that weird otherworldly ash. It was over.
"Are you family?"
Nancy and Robin had prepped him for this one, too. In everything but the law, Eddie and Steve were husbands. They'd had a wedding with Robin and Dustin as their Best (Wo)Men and Wayne as their officiant, in the middle of the night where no one would notice but them. They'd celebrated their fifth anniversary two weeks ago, they were the loves of each others' lives. But to the government, to this doctor, they weren't anything but friends who shared a bed. Fuck the nineties.
"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law," Eddie answered, knowing when Nancy showed up they could pass this lie off decently. "How's Steve doing?"
The doctor gave him a long look, but otherwise nodded and rechecked his clipboard. "Mr. Harrington is getting prepped for emergency surgery, currently, as he's s—"
"Emergency surgery? What do you mean surgery?" Already Eddie could feel the tell-tale warning signs of panic as his heart began to race and his palms got sweaty. Surgery wasn't good. They weren't supposed to do this. No more hospitals, no more surgeries, no more 'wait and see's. They'd promised after last time, Steve promised.
"Sir," the doctor pushed, looking more irritated than concerned. "This is a routine procedure, we see it all the time. Mr. Harrington has a case of appendicitis, pretty bad by the looks of it. Has he been feeling any pain lately?"
"Yeah, yeah the bastard has," Eddie hissed, not sure if he was about to laugh or cry. Appendicitis. Fucking appendicitis. He'd had that as a kid, he still remembered all the popsicles and ice creams Uncle Wayne let him have in the days after, cooped up in the trailer watching boring TV shows while all his friends were at school. "Is he already in surgery? Can I see him?"
"He's being prepped, but you can see him. We gave him some medication to calm him down and ease his pain, so Mr. Harrington may be...out of it," the doctor warned as he led Eddie through the maze of hallways behind the front desk. "Next time, let your brother-in-law know he shouldn't ignore this kind of pain."
"Oh don't you worry, doc, I'll make sure to pass on the message," Eddie answered, practically glaring at the closed hospital room door. Fucking appendicitis and Steve had ignored it, passed it off as a pulled muscle after a run.
Seeing Steve in a hospital bed didn't get any easier, though it was hard to be angry or scared when the man's head lolled across the pillow to reveal a brilliant, out-of-it smile Eddie had never seen before. "Eddie!" Steve cooed, reaching his arms out for the other man.
Eddie couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance quickly so he could press Steve's arms back to the bed. "Hey, c'mon now, Harrington, don't wanna pull that IV line out."
"Did they tell you they're stealing my organ? They're stealing it, Eds!"
"It's a pretty useless one anyway, you won't even miss it."
Steve's face scrunched up at that, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "How dare you! Of course I'll notice one of my little guys got separated! What if he gets lonely?"
"You're..." Eddie tried not to laugh, if only because he's sure that'll make Steve fly off the handle even further. He scrubbed a hand across his tired face, sure his expression was full of nothing but fondness now for the man laying in the hospital bed. "You're afraid your appendix will get lonely?"
"I just...they're all meant to be together, you know? You can't separate one and expect it won't get lonely. Don't let them steal my organ, Eds."
"I," Eddie began, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. "Stevie, baby, it's not stealing if a doctor does it. They're taking it out because it's being a troublemaker. It doesn't belong there anymore, you can't keep trying to make it fit somewhere it doesn't."
"Never stopped me before," Steve answered with a little slur. "Maybe I like troublemakers." Then, leaning over with his hand by his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper, he said at full volume, "I mean you, Eddie."
There was no laugh like the one Steve was able to pull from him, of that Eddie had learned years before. He laughed until his chest hurt and tears gathered in his eyes, until even the nurse peeked their head in to check on the two of them.
"C'mon, Stevie. You go be a rockstar in there and I'll be right beside you when you wake up. We'll go get so much ice cream you forget about your stolen appendix," Eddie offered, pressing a kiss to Steve's non-IV lined hand.
"I'll be such a good rockstar you gotta put me in the band," Steve answered, blowing a kiss to Eddie as the surgical team came in to wheel him off. "Love you, Eds."
Warmth spread through his chest, warming him from the insides out until Eddie worried he might burn up from the intensity of Steve's love. "Love you too, Steve."
Eddie stands and watches as they wheel Steve out of the room, laughing as Steve yelled after him.
"I can't believe you're letting them steal my poor appendix, Munson! I won't forget this!"
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In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.
It feels good.
He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.
Like his parents do. Did?
He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.
He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.
Why he keeps letting them.
No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.
He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.
But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.
He won their affections with obedience.
He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.
Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.
Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.
The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.
Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.
Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-
Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.
Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'
It's not fair.
Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?
And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.
Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.
It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!
Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.
Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.
He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.
Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.
"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"
Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.
Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"
From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.
"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.
Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."
"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"
"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.
"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.
Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.
"Steve-"
"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.
"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.
"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"
"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.
"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.
Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"
"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"
"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."
Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"
"What?"
"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."
"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."
"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"
"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"
"Yeah. Kinda."
Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.
"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."
"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"
"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."
Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."
Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss
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undeadcannibal · 10 months
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imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-
*INSTANT BONER*
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Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader
Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138
Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.
A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )
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Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 
John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 
You went by the call sign Mouse. 
At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 
Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.
Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 
Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 
As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 
"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 
"Have any plans for 'em?" 
You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 
"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 
He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 
"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 
By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 
"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 
With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 
The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 
Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 
Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 
Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 
Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 
"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 
You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 
Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 
Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 
"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 
Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--
He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 
He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 
Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 
"They look good on you, kid." 
Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.
Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.
The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
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These will be updated here and there. It’s likely that there’s some I won’t stick to when it comes to requests and even story ideas where they won’t fit.
He hates pickles. Anything that is green and smells that bad does not belong in the food section.  But he loves pickled pigs feet.
He likes sex but can easily live without it. 
He hasn’t been a virgin since his early teens (thanks to Merle and a handful of drug money)
It would take some serious, repeated encouragement and assurance (and a lot of time) before he’s comfortable having sex.
He is the type of guy that goes one step at a time, testing the waters. Making out, touching you, letting you touch him (slowly because his brain has been conditioned to flinch away). Everything would be through the clothes and then progress. Slow and steady wins the race.
He’s a switch. Sometimes, he wants all the say (so to speak) in the bedroom, watching you whimper and beg. Sometimes he just physically needs to give up control to balance the chaos. 
Rarely, when he’s extremely needy, he wants you to tell him he’s a “good boy” and praise him for how incredible he makes you feel. He’d never ask for it but when you call him that on accident, his reaction was quite telling.
He can easily go from gentle to rough. He would never want to hurt you. Squeezing your throat, slapping your ass, teasing your breasts, or leaving love marks with his teeth absolutely do not count as hurting you.
Consent is a huge deal to him.
He’s always been quiet during anything sexual; On the rare occasions he talks, it’s reassurances and quiet, gentle praise. Otherwise, grunts and whimpers and low growls are what you get until he’s about to orgasm.
However, sometimes he’s just so wound up, so needy for you, that he can’t help but moan loudly or call your name.
He always tells you he’s close to or has already started cumming. No real rhyme or reason. Maybe just his way of letting you know that you took him there.
He has a genuine dislike of cats. He doesn’t hate them by any means but if he had to pick an animal that was secretly plotting world domination, it’d be cats. 
He prefers boxer briefs. 
The only name brand clothing he ever owned was underwear because his junk deserves only the best. 
He’s superstitious, even if he pretends not to be. 
He doesn’t like giving his significant other pet names beyond “sunshine,” “pipsqueak”, or “woman.” Things that you find endearing regardless. On rare occasions, he’ll use “doll” or “darlin’.”
He secretly adores when you call him “baby” or “sweetheart.” Pretty much any endearment that labels him as yours.
He rarely (but it does happen) says “I love you.” He’s more of an actions guy and if you say it first, he’ll usually only say “me too” or rub his knuckles over your jaw.
He can’t sleep if his feet are hot. 
Spiders freak him out. 
He hates showers, not because he just doesn’t like them. Being in a space with scars on display makes him feel vulnerable. The water touching the scars forces him to relive when he received them.
Contrary to popular belief, he does keep specific areas of his body acceptably clean, using the bathroom sink or river/lake/creek when he’s in the forest.
The dirt and grime that coat his skin is a grounding reminder of who he is, so he doesn’t completely lose himself in that dystopian world.
He has never hunted for sport, only for survival. He respects nature and what it provides.
He loves to read. His favorite book is The Outsiders.
He doesn't/wouldn't understand why his girl can't talk to him instead of a stranger. He would need some mental health education as the urging of Carol or Michonne before even remotely understanding. He wants to be supportive, first and foremost.
He fights tooth and nail to avoid getting "his head shrunk" but in the end, if it meant not losing his girl, he'd give in.
He is a horrible patient for physical ailments and even worse for mental ones.
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sugar-grigri · 2 months
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Denji is awake, Asa is already inside and Yoshida is Chainsaw Man's ally
We interpreted the last chapter in reverse, so why not continue the exercise?
I haven't read any reaction, but I know in advance that Yoshida will be shown in the same way: as a cold being always there to make Denji's situation worse. But the observation is quite the opposite: he's the one who's constantly negotiated for his situation. Worse still, interpreting him as an ally makes everything absolutely clearer.
I know what I'm saying may come as a surprise, after all, he's the one who announced Denji's dismemberment and doesn't seem to be doing anything to stop it. But don't interpret things that way, the whole answer is in the title.
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The title refers to the ambient sounds of Denji's dismemberment, having no words at all, whereas titles usually refer to the dialogue in the chapter. Why is this? Because the answers are in the scenery and the unspoken words.
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For example, the answers lie in the questions that seem to be answers (stay focused): for example, we learn that Denji slept for a week… OK… but why exactly did they let him sleep for a week ? The protagonist asks Yoshida: why didn't you wake me up before?
In addition : why wake him now?
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The chapter deliberately focuses on a cold Yoshida, who announces that he's put him back to sleep. But why wake him up to tell him all this and then put him back to sleep? After all, the contract had already been broken, Denji couldn't negotiate.
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Because it's been a week since Yoshida negotiated to give Denji one last chance. In any case, the time that has elapsed shows that there have been negotiations about what to do with this out-of-control Chainsaw Man. Why is Yoshida doing this? Because more and more, he starts trying to protect him, even though he's supposed to control him. We'll see that his principles and his own way of surviving will also be increasingly undermined.
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Yoshida knows that Asa has a connection with devils, whether it was when he prevented Denji from revealing his identity after fighting Yuko or or when he assisted Yoru during the aquarium arc. Telling her to stay away from Denji was a means of protection, as he knew that she was a disruptive element, which could lead Denji to either reveal his identity or transform and thus put himself in danger.
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In chapter 132, Yoshida appeared in an extremely dominant position with a bound Denji, with Yoshida looking almost antagonistic. But in reality, the direct consequence of Yoshida's intervention was an equal negotiation around a table about Nayuta and being Chainsaw Man in the chapter 133 that followed. Above all, Yoshida presented himself as a malevolent force when, in reality, Nayuta arrived earlier than expected, a sign that she was safe and already freed.
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Above all, we know that there is a mole because the information leaked to the detriment of the church, the public hunters were aware of the attack to the point that Quanxi stopped it before it went off at 5pm. Worse than a leak, there was an exchange of information because the church was not at all destabilised and had already planned its response with the fire demon.
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If you're still not convinced: then interpret Fumiko as the strict inverted product of the system that Yoshida has become. Fumiko is a hunter who presents herself as younger than she is, calling Denji senpai even though she's older than he is, while Yoshida never behaves like the teenager he is.
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Fumiko also presents herself as Denji's ally, showing that she sees him as a child, whereas she has never had the will to protect him and has always dehumanized him. Yoshida does the opposite, presenting himself as Denji's enemy, playing on the fact that he's the only figure among the public hunters to negotiate with him and face his wrath, preventing him from doing what he wants while secretly helping him.
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Yoshida is beginning to worry about Denji, otherwise he'd be totally indifferent to the fact that he doesn't grasp the stakes of the dilemma the hunters are imposing on him. The aim of the public hunters was to send a hunter around Denji's age for more connection, but in reality it's Yoshida who is becoming more sensitive to Denji's actions than Denji is to Yoshida's words.
By being this mediator who enters into direct negotiations, he feels that he is not only responsible for what Denji may do, but by dreading the fact that he breaks the rules, he also begins to dread the consequence of having broken them: Denji will be in danger.
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Negotiations then took place for a week to improve Denji's situation, but failed given the way Chainsaw Man behaved out of control. Yoshida could do nothing officially, so he turned to the last resource he had left: the war devil.
When Yoshida confronted Asa, we sensed that he himself was unsettled by what he was doing. We also feel this unease expressly in this chapter, when he sees the state Denji is in.
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But what interests us most is that he apologizes to Asa for attacking her, even though she had followed the rules. It's as if Yoshida realised that, even if he made sure that we totally complied with the State and its conditions (Asa had to stay away from Denji, Denji mustn't transform), that wasn't enough to guarantee the security they were hoping for in return.
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All this overturns Yoshida's principles in two ways. From a relational point of view, Yoshida sees solitude as a way of life less likely to be hurt, and we also see that his criteria for normality are the fact of being isolated. But the hunter's tactic backfired: instead of not getting hurt, he became increasingly concerned about the fate of the man he was supposed to dehumanise.
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On another level, Yoshida's survival strategy is to trust the system, to trust it blindly and to accept its logic, hence his eyes without a glint in them, like Kishibe's, who had integrated them so as not to suffer. But more and more, he realises that this is not enough to guarantee safety. He realised this when he attacked Asa himself. But above all, Denji himself has never broken the rules. He never revealed his identity to anyone. And when he turned into the Chainsaw Man, the contract had already been broken by the actions of Barem, who attacked his dogs and cat. In reality, Denji trusted Yoshida's words, he had fully integrated them, but the state failed to protect him as it had promised.
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It is easier, even if only politically, to accuse a 17-year-old teenager of not honouring his commitment than to recognise that the state was unable to protect dogs and a cat from the actions of the church to prevent this transformation.
But above all, and this is what's fascinating, is that Yoshida uses this very political way of presenting this state failure when he opens the doors and is heard by Fumiko and the other agents, as if to convince them that he's still on their side. Yoshida thought it was enough to be alone and trust the system, but Asa and Denji proved that it wasn't enough. This trust in the state can be represented by the tako-tsubo trap: the octopus enters these cylindrical jars thinking it can protect its fragile constitution by sticking to the sides, but in reality, the octopus remains at the bottom of the trap.
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Yoshida becomes aware of the trap he is in and helps Denji more and more. When did he have this realisation? I can't date it, but what I can say for sure is that in chapter 156, he intends to help Denji. He wakes him up to talk to him one last time, he gives him information, if only temporal, and Denji only confirms the failings of the system: Yoshida doesn't know Nayuta's fate because the state has completely failed to protect her.
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But more importantly, takotsubo is also a fairly rare heart condition that can be brought on by a great emotional shock, which Yoshida wants to avoid by isolating himself. But as we said, he's already in the trap, so he's already become more emotional.
So Yoshida wants to help Denji, but how? By doing the opposite of what he was supposed to do, bringing Asa back into the equation by warning her about Denji's situation and his position.
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The dismemberment of Chainsaw Man is a more than secret operation, and Fumiko asks Yoshida for confirmation, a sign that he is one of the only people with the most reliable information about Chainsaw Man's fate. No-one else could have warned Asa. But above all, Yoshida's information is going to help the war demon: by redeeming himself.
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Denji has one leg removed, then the other, but what's left? His arms, right? Whereas Asa's legs are shown at the very end. But what was she missing? Her arms, right?
And what are these doctors doing, harvesting limbs and obviously? On top of that, it's a big number... 26... 27... what the public hunters are surely doing is to weaken Chainsaw Man as much as possible by dividing him up, but to accentuate his division, they're pulling on Denji's strap to force his regeneration while playing on his sleep to leave him unconscious. A large number of Denji's body members are harvested.
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And who cut off Asa's arm? Yoshida. What could he do? Place her arm among all Denji's arms. To leave her with a weapon of choice within these walls. Warn Asa, and take advantage of her severed arm by recovering it, was Yoshida's plan B.
I know your headache's already there, but let's get on with it. What's the chapter title? Ambient noises, right? But who hears them?
I'm going to say the first sounds are those of the helicopter. The others are those of the dismemberment operation. But who hears all these successive noises? Isn't Denji supposed to be asleep?
Quite simply because Denji has woken up, not physically but to recover his senses a little, hence the detail of his clenched fist and the fact that he can now hear. How is this possible? Probably because Yoshida made sure not to shoot him completely. Why not? Because not only does he need Denji to remain at least minimally conscious, he also needs him to stay awake out of fear for the uncertainty surrounding Nayuta's fate.
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We can see that Nayuta's fate agitates Denji and even makes him semi-conscious. Telling her that she was fine would have had the opposite effect, as Denji would have had no desire to get up. I think you can see where I'm going with this, but it was in Denji's interest to frustrate him even more about Nayuta and that's exactly what Yoshida did.
Let's make a brief philosophical and legal point: Leviathan by Hobbes is a work that forms one of the bases for thinking about the relationship between man and the state. Hobbes wrote this essay while traumatized by the English civil wars, for whom the only way to avoid chaos would be to give our liberties to a powerful monarch.
Man is a danger to social well-being; his natural reflex is domination, enslavement and violence.
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Giving our freedoms to the state provides a powerful arbiter who in turn ensures security and social peace - the social contract. Why Leviathan? Leviathan is none other than the State, a creature invented by men, against which no individual can compete. Yoshida works for the state and therefore symbolically for Leviathan, the octopus demon.
The quid pro quo of this contract with the State, the Leviathan, is security, which is not guaranteed, as Yoshida can testify. So what does Yoshida do? He helps the figure whose popularity threatened that of the State as the guardian of social peace. But above all, he is helping the element that the state fears most - civil war, i.e. war within its borders. Within its walls.
If Yoshida and Asa have one thing in common, it's that they prefer to be alone to avoid suffering. What they do, however, is join forces to prevent Denji from stopping suffering, to enable them to move forward just like the legs they lack.
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Just like friends would do.
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Note
Hi if you’re willing, I was wondering if you could write Malleus x a fem autistic s/o who is sensitive to loud noises and sometimes has a unhealthy stems I would love general dating head cannons with him and autistic lover because I can’t find any autistic head cannons anywhere so I really appreciate it. Have a good day and love your writing.❤️🥺
Surey love~ Because we autistics also need writings.
If you have other characters who you want this let me know <3
Malleus Draconia
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( * Gives the Reader plot Armor * May this protect you against a screeming crocodile called Sebek. The only way you can survive the lessons with him.)
Okay first you should tell Malleus what autism is.
He'd never heard of it before.
It would be good for you to review the related issues and your challenges.
Malleus would be willing to learn and understand.
He would love you very much.
Yes enough to try to make the whole NRC Reader friendly place.
Blackmail and threats would work :D
Malleus wouldn't even realize that this is wrong.
This wouldn't change your date much.
Because you would usually spend time on night walks.
But you could go to the mall with Malleus…
Because almost all people would disappear when they saw him.
This is the only time Malleus is happy about this.
He would also try to protect you with a stems that harms you.
The perfect boyfriend~~
But the there would be a problem in your relationship….
Malleus jealousy.
Because it has a nasty habit of causing thunderstorms.
Loud thunderstorms.
What would burden you after an already stressful school day.
He would try his best to control this.
Otherwise, it would be best to keep your relationship a secret for as long as possible.
Not even plot armor can withstand Sebek's loudness when he finds out about your relationship.
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stevesbipanic · 4 months
Text
@steddiemas Day 22: Santa Shenanigans
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Steve was going to kill Robin.
Well, not really because he doesn't think he'd survive more than a couple days without her. But he'd certainly be giving her the stink eye next shift for suggesting a secret Santa between the older ones of the party.
"We just rog it so that I get Vickie and she'll fall madly in love with me, it's a perfect plan Steve!"
To her credit it was an ok plan.
"Last week you spent an hour bemoaning the fact that she smiled at a boy."
"But yesterday she spent two hours studying with me in the library!"
Steve rolled his eyes at her shenanigans but agreed nonetheless. They drew names the next time they had all gone out for burgers at the diner. Steve tried not to make it obvious when he saw who his name was. Eddie.
Steve wasn't disappointed, no, far from it, he'd been hiding a crush on the older boy for a few months now, let's just say Eddie spent a lot of time by Steve's pool last summer. But now he felt the pressure to get him the perfect gift. The plan hadn't even worked for Robin.
"I got Argyle! Now how will I win her heart."
"Could always plant some mistletoe."
"You're a genius! Who'd you get."
"It's Secret Santa, Rob's, it's meant to be secret."
"Boo you're no fun, bet it's me."
It took Steve weeks to finish his gift for Eddie and Steve found himself hastily wrapping it the morning of their little Christmas party, grateful that Robin had thought of the plan well in advance otherwise he'd have never finished.
Steve greeted everyone and watched as they placed their secret Santa gifts under the tree. They ate, laughed and picked a Christmas movie to watch after presents. One by one they opened their gifts.
Nancy got Vickie some water colour paints.
Argyle got Jonathan rolls of fresh film.
Jonathan got Nancy some new notepads with larger covers.
Robin got Argyle a big bright tie dye shirt with Groovy printed on the front, he quickly put it over the sweater he was already wearing.
Vickie turned to Robin and Steve quickly saw her cheeks start to redden. She passed her the gift and Robin unwrapped a bag full of pins and badges.
"I've been collecting them for a few weeks for you from around town and around where I went to visit my grandma, thought your work vest needed some more fun ones."
Robin grinned widely at Vickie, the effort making a big impact on her. Steve knew he'd be hearing about it for weeks but he hoped the mistletoe in the kitchen sped things along.
Steve was about to give Eddie his gift when he realised that this meant Eddie also got him for Secret Santa. He turned to the metalhead to find him already shyly holding out a gift.
"It's not much but I hope you like it, Stevie."
Steve unwrapped the small package to find a collection of mixtapes inside, Eddie's handwriting clearly scribbled on the side.
"I started making a mixtape of songs that made me think of you but U ran out of room on the first one and might've gotten carried away," he said shyly scratching his neck.
Steve glanced over the names of the songs and it was clear that the majority of them certainly wouldn't remind someone of their dear platonic friend. Steve smiled softly at him and passed him his gift.
"I think I know what you mean."
Eddie slightly confused at the statement unwrapped the gift, his mouth forming a small o looking inside. He took out the book, a worn copy of The Hobbit that Steve had thrifted as soon as he knew Eddie was his secret Santa.
"Stevie, you know I've got this one, it's my favourite," he said slightly awkwardly.
"Look inside."
Eddie slowly opened the book to see small dribbles of ink between the words. The handwriting clearly Steve's. As he flicked through he saw Steve's thoughts spilling into almost every page.
"It's your favourite and you're always wanting me to read it so I did, I thought it'd be fun if you saw exactly what I thought of it."
Eddie's eyes caught on one of the words near the end, a small red shape next to them, yeah, he thinks he and Steve are on the same page, but he'd wait until the end, no spoilers early after all.
"I love it, Stevie, thank you."
As Steve sat curled up next to Eddie on the couch watching the film he too had the same thought, definitely on the same page.
Ao3
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sanemisstalker · 9 months
Text
Incel! Gyutaro, but it's a modern western college! au and you whip him into shape real fast. My ex won't talk to me, so I'm very much fantasizing about a man that will be obsessive over me ---> gyutaro NSFW
CW// Fem reader / AFAB genitalia / Breasted Reader / INCEL MENTALITIES : Sexism, Poly Hate / BDSM dynamics/ Implied ED (Gyutaro is a gym junkie who should definitely be eating more) / SH / Men's Mental Health / Inconsistent POV because I'm writing this with my hand down my pants (I am joking)
PART TWO <-
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-You go to community College with him. He's some fucking dude in your necessary math course they wouldn't let you drop. He sits next to you in the booths.
-He's not awful looking. He's got some weird scars across his face, but like, they're kind of artsy. They add a flare the guy would be lacking otherwise.
-His vibe is a little... weird. He doesn't talk in class ever. You see him around campus and he doesn't seem... at all versed in social interaction. You once watched him get into a fight, which was a little sexy, but since it was with Tengen Uzui, your eyes were much more interested in the latter.
-Gyutaro is used to that though. Never being the one looked at. Typical of women like you. You're always frothing at the mouth over fucking Chad's like Tengen- He got it. Tengen was built, strong jawed, and just reeked of sex appeal wherever he walked. He always had the glaze of one of those five sluts he hung out with on his lips-
-Tengen was lucky. He's apparently been training since he was young- to look like a Greek God and all. Gyutaro spent the first years of his life fighting to survive in a hospital, and then every year after fighting to live in his home safely.
-and girls like you- sluts like you were always going to favour Tengen. Always assholes.
-After that fight, you began speaking to Gyutaro. You didn't come onto the topic immediately- you didn't want to pry- So You'd mention his shirt.
-'Is that Death Cab For Cutie?' His heart dropped when you spoke. He didn't even register you were talking about his shirt.
-'Are... Are you talking to me?' He'd croak. His voice was quite nice. Soft, but low.
-'Yeah- Your shirt? That's... That's death cab for cutie, right?'
-'Y-Yeah.'
-As classes rolled by, you came to understand that Gyutaro was a very... disturbed individual. Aside from being generally jumpy and odd, his moral opinions specifically toward women were less than desirable.
-You came to know of his opinions toward Tengen as well. The level of insecurity dripping from every word was palatable... even through the venom.
-He called women 'femoids' and constantly tried to express that Tengen had been given a bigger genetic stick in life. You could never decide if he was referring to Tengen's dick or not.
-You were different, though, He'd assure. You always got what he was saying. Even if you were just letting him mindlessly ramble about his awful, borderline questionable mentalities.
-with said mentalities, you began to realize that Gyutaro was a very easy man. An incredibly easy man. Who was incredibly attracted to every woman he met- but especially you.
-'Gyutaro, have you ever slept with anyone?' You'd ask one day, on the way to the cafeteria. On the few days he chose that over the gym, he'd walk with you. You worried about him, occasionally.
-The question would visibly startle him.
-'I-No. I'm - ha- I'm not... Why?' He'd cut over his own words, face burning.
-'Just curious. You seem all cool, like you get around.' You'd melt a little at that prideful look on his face. How absolutely smitten.
-Maybe the power went to your head, but you began to seek little moments of affirmation from Gyutaro. You'd bend over, a little too close to him- The chronic porn addict. Knowing what it did to him.
-You'd always compliment his shirts- All of his bands incredibly main stream despite his insistence that they weren't.
-You remembered the noise he made when you grabbed his arm in class, once. The teacher had decided to round up the class grade- just barely passing you- and you turned and clung onto his arm, and it was almost like he choked.
-'Hey, Gyutaro, can I come over and study?' You'd pose one day. His face would turn red, a hand flying to his scarred wrist. He itched the skin off- almost always raw.
-'To my- my dorm?'
-'Mhm.'
-'My room isn't-' He'd pause. 'Why? What do you want?' His emotions would flit, unsure of your reasoning. You'd roll your eyes.
-'To hang out? You know? On the one night a week we don't have homework?'
-'Aren't you going to go... party? You do every other weekend.' You found the tang of malice on his tongue adorable. Irritating, but adorable.
'One, I don't party every week. Two, I think you'd be fun to hang out with. What, am I not pretty enough to bring back to your roomate? Am I not allowed in the great and powerful lord Gyutaro's room? ' You'd taunt.
-'N-no. You're pr- no I-'
-'Cool! You live in the good dorms, right?'
-Gyutaro did live in the good dorms. He was also very lucky to be in a one man dorm. Apparently his old roomate, Akaza, had moved out to join a frat.
-Not that you could tell it was a good dorm. The thing was filthy. It smelled like hell, too. Like Gyutaro.
-'I'm sorry for the mess.' He'd grumble. 'I get really busy...'
-'You're fine. Are you a PC gamer?' You'd point to his massive set up.
-'Y-yeah.'
-'Thats cool- ooooh, a Scott Pilgrim poster. I love that movie.' God, you just knew everything, didn't you? All the things girls weren't supposed to like. Gyutaro had been fantasizing about this very moment since you bothered to open your mouth at him. He guessed his work outs had been paying off.
-'Yeah its a good comic, too.'
-The conversation would sway too and frough. Not every really finding a groove. A girl in his room, and he could barely speak to her- you decided to take drastic measures.
-'Hey, Gyutaro, do you want to like do something? Like... a game.' You'd ask, turning to face him.
-'I- um- I have some two players-'
-'Not a game like that.' You'd laugh. He'd quirk an eyebrow. 'I'm like... horny. Like a party game'
-If you'd suddenly fired a gun next to his ear, the effect those words had on Gyutaro would've been the same. He gaped at your bluntness.
-'You're horny?'
-'Yeah... I want to do something... Dirty, I don't know.' You jerked the air off.
-'A-are you gonna leave?' He'd ask, sounding pathetic. 'Do you need me to leave?' What a dumb question, he realized, the second it left his mouth. This was his home, why would he let you jerk off-
-'Do you want to watch? It'd be rude to make you leave.' You completely understood the absurdity of the words coming from your mouth. Every word made Gyutaro's face twist into something akin to... excited disgust. It was fascinating.
-'W-watch?' He didn't understand why he stuttered so much around you.
-'Yeah... Watch? We don't need to like- play like... strip poker or anything. I just want to do something raunchy.'
-'We-we're not dating. You should do that with your boyfriend.'
-'Gyutaro, you know I don't have a boyfriend.' You'd remind. 'Are you scared?'
-'I'm not scared- I-'
-'We're adults. We can do what we want.' His traditionalist mindset was wanning by the word. He wanted you something awful, and here you were, offering to... touch yourself infront of him-
-He'd been leaning on his bed, and you began to creep forward.
-'Do you have any toys?'
-'You mean like vibes?' If his voice wasn't cracking, it was dry. Painfully so. 'I-'
-'Any you haven't put in you?'
-'I'm not into that.' He'd defend. A lie. A painful lie at that. 'I-'
-'Into what?' You'd bring your hand toward the edge of his shirt. He'd begin shaking under your touch. 'No bandaids over your nipples?'
-You'd been so kind and casual to him thus far. Always appreciating his bands and asking about his games. You're eyes had never even fixated on his birthmarks- He never expected you to actually like him-
-'I-I'm not some... some freak.'
-'You think I'm a freak for being into that?' His heart would ache at the sigh in your voice, guilt growing in his stomach as your hand left. 'Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to my dorm.'
-As you turned to leave, Gyutaro would scramble off the bed, eyes blown wide. His foot would knock into an empty can on the floor, and He'd probably tip over some of the comics on his nightstand.
-'Wait-wait!' He'd step over a pile of clothes, and begin rummaging around in the drawer behind his bed.
-His thin hand would come back with a small pink vibe- attached to a thin white wire. You could barely fight back the evil grin on your face as he resurfaced, face just as pink as the vibrator.
-You feigned needing help onto his bed, just so he'd pick you up and set you there. His tenseness was comedic. As you fully situated yourself, Gyutaro just stood, hands in his pockets-
-'Well, come on?' You ushered, nodding to the space between your legs. Gyutaro looked to the spot and then back to you.
-This couldn't be real. You couldn't be fucking real. Even as you spread your legs infront of him, revealing your dripping fucking pussy-- it could not be fucking real. It was too pornographic. You couldn't be serious- Any second you'd snap your legs shut, realize how fucking disgusting he was- how worthless and weird- and you'd spit on him, get up, and leave-
-But you didn't. You pressed the vibe to your clit and Gyutaro watched in awe as your pussy clenched around nothing. Begging, pleading for a cock to fill you, just like all the forums said it would.
-You swore you heard him whimper- gasp- Feeling all powerful under his watchful eye. You were very pleased to find he was bulging through his sweats, a small wet patch already forming.
-He wouldn't be able to get over how fucking wet you were. How good your pussy responded to the vibrations, how good you looked when you craved dick-
-'You should... Your hard on looks like it hurts.'
-Fuck, everything hurt. Your voice made his balls ache, begging for release. He didn't want to cum so early- Didn't want to be a minute man infront of you.
-You wanted him to cum early so bad. His dick had already soaked through his sweats with pre- you knew you could get him worse.
-'Gyutaro, can you- Can you finger me?'
-So fucking cruel. So fucking evil-
-You knew he'd be no good. Too rough and fast, but to your surprise, he shook his head. Very admant.
-'Why not?'
-'I- my hands are gross.' He'd whisper. The poor thing sounded close to tears. He wanted to finger you so bad, but he was all to aware of the cracks and scabs along his knuckles. 'I don't want to get you dirty.'
-'Do you have gloves?' You were surprised by the desperation in your own voice. Fuck.
-'L-like latex?'
-'Mhm'
-Gyutaro had cleared the bed and rush to his bathroom, yanking the gloves from the medicine cabinet. You heard the faucet start, and then a crash and a bang-
-And then Gyutaro was back infront of you, one hand covered with a glove. And he smelled like cologne. You held back a laugh.
-He shivered at the way your pussy sucked his finger in. And then a second not even a minute later.
-'It hurts... You should get on top of me. It'll help.' You reasoned.
-Gyutaro watched you with wide eyes as he bent down next to you, the curve of his wrist allowing him to begin an all too gentle thrust into your pussy.
-His face was right by yours, drinking in the sight of you growing heavy eyed and huffy with awe.
-He picked up his speed. Fuck- you were a real doll, alright. So fucking perfect. All for him. All his- you were his, he decided, deluded by the intimacy of the situation.
-You weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere with any other man- ever again. Nobody else could see this. Nobody was going to see you cum other than him, make you cum, other than him.
-'You keep going just past it-' You'd groan with frustration.
-'Past- What?'
-'I need you to- my g-spot you keep hitting everything but it-'
-His face would turn bright red at the critique.
-'Your g-spot?'
-'Of course you wouldn't know what that is.' You'd snark, reaching down to grab his wrist. His jaw would tighten as you began to guide his hand in and out of your pussy, back arching as he grazed a textured part of your walls.
-He felt like a dildo, an object for you to chase your high-
-Gyutaro came before you, his free hand rushing to try and prevent it, but you'd feel him shiver and hear a soft-
-'Fuck- fuck!'
-And you' look to see a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. It looked like he pissed himself, the stain starting at least midway down his thigh-
-You imagined such a gigantic load being forced past your cervix. His cock had to be huge- fucking huge- with enough cum to spill for days after.
-'I'm-I'm cumming-' You'd squeak as the vibrator paired with Gyutaro's shame sent you spiraling. His head would snap up to watch-
-You'd leave with nothing but a thanks, and a small comment on how he needed to clean his room - The look of shock on his face borderline second orgasm worthy- He'd already gotten hard again. He wanted to go- wanted you.
-But he'd get a text from you later that night. You'd be at a party- like he knew you were supposed to be.
-'Lol' would accompany a photo of you in a slutty little dress next to Tengen Uzui and those three bimbos always by his side. It would dock his confidence, send him spiraling- panicking-
-But it'd be there...a thin little wire peaking out from between your thighs.
-You'd send him your address and hope he'd have the balls to do something about it.
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darkbluekies · 1 year
Text
The witty and uncanny
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Doctor!yandere OC x reader x Mafia!yandere OC
Summary: After escaping Silas, you wake up at the hospital with a doctor who hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. And now, you have two to escape from ... at the same time.
Warnings: yandere, needles, gun + gunshot, blood, fighting, getting drugged, unhealthy relationships, jealousy, scalpels, a lot of drama
word count: 3.2k
Part 2
A bright light stings in your eyes as you pry them open. You whimper slightly at all the different pains in your body. You're lying in a bed, but it's not very comfortable.
"Oh, you're awake", an unfamiliar voice says. "I started to get worried."
A blurry shadow appears in front of your eyes. You blink a few times until you see the outline of a blonde man.
"How are you?" he asks softly.
You open your mouth to answer, but it's drier than a desert. The man puts a plastic cup to your lips and you sip a few mouthfuls of water.
"There we go, good job", he smiles. "Now, how are you?"
"Where am I?" you whisper.
"At the hospital. Do you remember anything?"
"I …" 
You stay silent as you look at the doctor. Don't you recognize him?
"Have we met before?" you ask quietly.
"The two of us?" he repeats. "Yes, we have. I cared for you a year ago when you came to check up on your sore throat. I'm doctor Kry."
"Oh, right … I remember."
A few seconds of silence occur as you try to remember last year. Everything feels so blurry after Silas took you.
"Now I'll ask again: how are you?" the man asks.
"I'm hurting", you admit.
"Nothing is broken, I can assure you of that. Can you tell me what happened?"
"Silas, he- …" Shit. You shouldn't have said anything.
Dr Kry grows increasingly stiffer hearing the other man's name.
"Silas? Who's that? Your boyfriend?"
"No."
At least you don't think so. You never agreed to become Silas’s partner … or his prisoner for that matter.
"That's relieving to hear", Dr Kry smiles slightly and brushes the hair out of your face. "Can you tell me what happened? I won't tell anyone. I have to stay silent by law."
You gulp. You had escaped Silas during a mission of his. He'd brought you with him for who knows what reason and you managed to run while he wasn't looking. When he noticed that you were gone, you had to throw yourself down a cliff to get out of his reach. Landing in the water, you had no other choice but to swim to shore and then run for your life. You had been running for hours until exhaustion took over you. You fainted in a park. Now you're here.
You give the doctor a brief explanation, leaving out most of the information about Silas and his job.
"Why were you running from him?" Dr Kry asks suspiciously. "Did he hurt you?"
You nod. When you close your eyes you can see the basement's stone walls in front of you.
"Don't worry, Y/N, you won't get hurt ever again", Dr Kry promises. "You're safe with me now, okay?"
You shake your head quickly. You'll never be free from Silas! He's insane! He'll burn down the hospital once he finds you.
"Calm down, dear", Dr Kry smiles. "You're safe, I promise. This hospital has fantastic security. You wouldn't be able to break out from here even if you tried to."
You nod carefully, deciding to try to calm down. After all, you haven’t gotten the slightest bit of relaxation after Silas stole you away from your life. Resting now might be crucial in case Silas decides to find you again. Otherwise you might be too vulnerable for Silas's harsh manipulation. You won’t survive the basement if you’re not rested up. 
Dr Kry sits with you as you sleep, watching over you. He goes through some papers, reading through your journals. 
“Oh, my dear Y/N”, he whispers for himself, flipping pages, knowing full well you cannot hear him. “Finally you’re back with me.”
A while later, there’s a knock at the door. Dr Kry frowns and walks over to open. WHat he’s met with takes him by surprise. A black haired man with a long coat and a gun in his hand. 
“Where are they?” he hisses. 
Dr Kry looks at the gun with a glare and clenches his jaw. 
“You must be Silas”, he says warningly, still sounding calm.
“Back away”, Silas says darkly, pointing with the gun. “Go to your desk.”
Dr Kry backs away slowly, refusing to look away from Silas. Silas notices your sleeping form in the bed, breathing out in relief. 
“Y/N!” he says. “Little thing, wake up.”
“Don’t”, Dr Kry says quickly. “They just fell asleep. If you wake them up I’ll call for security and you’ll leave this hospital in pieces.”
Silas scoffs as one side of his mouth pulls up. “I’m the one with the gun here. I make the rules, okay, doc?”
“This is my territory that you’ve trespassed on. Here, I’m in charge.”
Silas glances at your sleeping form, at the bruises on your skin and the IV-drop next to your bed. 
“What have you done to them?” he growls. 
“What have I done?” Dr Kry repeats in shock. “They were worse when I took them in! What you see there, you have caused when they were running from you.”
Silas pushes Dr Kry up against the wall, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. The black haired man is a tad bit taller than him, but he isn’t feeling threatened. He’s furious. This man has caused you harm. He needs to be taken care of before you wake up. Dr Kry can’t let you see any of his bad sides. Silas puts the gun against Dr Kry’s temple. 
“If you’re so stupid to kill me here, you better find another doctor to care for your ‘little thing’”, Dr Kry says, mocking Silas’s nickname for you. 
Silas gives the doctor a nasty look and lets him go harshly. He’s about to walk over to you, but Dr Kry storms after, grabbing his arm. 
“Don’t even think about moving them”, he warns Silas. “They’re hurt thanks to you. They need to heal up!”
“I will get them everything they need”, Silas mutters. 
“Yeah, sure. Since when do you know how to use medical equipment? Smallest misstep and you’ll harm them. I’m not going to let you do anything that could worsen their condition.”
Silas gulps and looks around, hate still clear in his eyes, but now also a bit of worry. 
“Fine”, he mutters. “I guess I’ll let them stay here until they’re better.”
Dr Kry smiles inside. Oh, you’ll never get better. 
By now, you open your eyes after all the sound the two men have caused. Your gasp alerts the two of them, turning both their heads towards you. Your eyes are stuck on Silas with fear glowing in them. 
“N-No-”, you almost sob. 
“Don’t cry, little thing”, Silas says and pushes Dr Kry out of the way. “Come here-”
“No! Don’t touch me!”
Your scream hurts Dr Kry’s ears. He grabs Silas’s shoulders and forces him away from you, standing in between him and you as a shield. Silas is about to throw himself at the doctor when he sees how you hide behind him. 
“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spits. “Y/N is mine! If I want to touch my baby, I have all the damn right to do so!”
“You forget that this is my territory”, Dr Kry warns him calmly , taking your hand. “I decide who touches my patients or not and right now, I’m the only one allowed to.”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. Let go of their fucking hand right now.”
"Or what? You're going to shoot me? We've been through this already. If you shoot me you don't have anyone else to care for them. Is that what you want?"
"I'll find someone else."
"Then are you really going to put Y/N through this? If you shoot me, my blood will splatter on them. Try manipulating them to like you after that."
"You piece of shit-"
Silas is about to attack him, but Dr Kry picks up a scalpel and holds it in front of him.
"If you have to be here, be of use and sit down", the doctor sighs and rolls his eyes. "And be quiet. You're scaring Y/N."
You've curled up on the bed to protect your fragile body from Silas’s wrath. The man with the gun sighs heavily.
"This is fucking ridiculous", he mutters and sinks down in the chair in the corner of the room. "Why am I listening to you?"
Dr Kry smiles slightly and holds a cup of water to your lips. You choke on it thanks to the stress of having Silas in the room. You're waiting for him to have had enough and get rid of your doctor. He's the only form of protection you have. 
"Breathe", Dr Kry whispers. "Don't look at him."
"What are you saying to them?" Silas asks quickly, suspiciously.
"Nothing. Instead of trying to eavesdrop, go to the vending machine  on the floor below and get your 'little thing' something to eat."
"Why should I? You're the doctor!"
"Exactly. I'm the doctor. I have to stay with the patient at all costs."
"You fucking asshole."
"Y/N hasn't been eaten once since they came here."
Silas growls and stands up. He gives you one warning gaze before rushing out. Doctor Kry waits a few seconds before hurrying over to the other side of the bed, carefully removing the needle out of your arm. He places his arms under your body, carefully lifting you up.
"W-What are you doing?" you gasp.
"Getting you away from here. I'm going to take care of that man, but in that case, I can't have you close."
Dr Kry carries you out of the room, glancing at the ends of the corridor before running to the elevator.
"You don't understand!" you almost sib. "Silas will kill if you do this! He's insane, h-he'll-"
"So am I."
"What?"
A shiver runs down your spine. 
"I don't like to admit it, but I do have some scary thoughts too sometimes", Dr Kry says disappointingly. "Don't worry, I will take care of that man. Afterwards, you and I can go back to being together. I won't let anything hurt you."
You shake your head slowly, realization hitting you. No, this can't be it …
"You sound like him …", you whisper quietly. "You sound like Silas …"
"No, I don't."
"L-Let me down."
"I can't. You're not well enough to walk by yourself. I have to protect you." 
Dr Kry leaves the elevator and steps out into a dimly lit cemented corridor. You must be far below ground.
"He won't find you here", Dr Kry says.
His voice makes you shiver.
"Let me go", you whine and start to fight against his strong embrace. "Let me go! I'm going to scream."
"Scream all you want, Y/N, but I'd be surprised if anyone could hear you down here."
He opens a door into a white experiment cell. You shake your head desperately. This reminds you too much of the basement. The only thing in the room is a wall made of a mirror, a table and a chair. Dr Kry lets you down in the chair and walks towards the door. You hurry up and try to run past him, but he captures your arm and pulls you back.
"Don't tire yourself out, sweetheart", he says. "You won't get well that way."
"I threw myself off a fucking cliff! A little running won't do anything to me!"
Dr Kry manages to pry your arm off him and push you into the room before going out and locking the door. You pound the door with your fists, screaming. Dr Kry gulps and makes his way back to the elevator. You're safe here, he reassures himself.
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Silas makes his way back to your room with a burning rage in his heart and a protein bar in his hand. That doctor has a storm coming for him. Silas is going to hang him upside down until the blood suffocates his brain. And he'll watch it all with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. And you? One thing's for sure: you're never coming with him for a mission ever again. He can't believe that you did all of this to get rid of him.
"I seriously need to get a couple therapist", he mutters to himself and reaches for the door handle into the room.
Before he touches it, he stops. Something’s wrong. He swings it open and finds it empty. You’re not in the bed and the doctor is nowhere to be seen. Silas takes out his gun from his coat again. 
“I’m going to fucking kill you”, he promises. 
“How funny, because I was thinking the same thing”, a voice behind him says, catching him by surprise. 
Silas turns around to see Dr Kry putting on white gloves. Silas turns his gun towards him. Dr Kry scoffs out a low chuckle.
“But the difference between our deaths is that yours will be quiet and quick”, he says, taking up a needle from his pocket and testing the spurt. “No one will know if you’ve left the hospital or not.” He nods at the weapon in his hand. “One shot with the gun and everyone will know that something has happened to me. You won’t get away with it.”
“You’re wrong, I’ve gotten away with a lot of things. This will be nothing out of the ordinary.”
“You sure do a lot of talking for someone with a gun in their hands.”
“Well, I can’t fucking kill you before you tell me where the fuck Y/N is. Now spit it out. I’m sick of this!”
“Why should I tell you? You’re clearly only causing them harm.”
Silas growls and throws himself at Dr Kry, not being able to control himself anymore. The doctor gets knocked to the floor. Just as Silas is about to start punching him, the doctor stabs him in the arm with the needle. Silas is quick to get off him and rip it out.
"W-What the fuck was that?" he asks quickly.
"Something to make you sleep", Dr Kry smirks from the floor, still lying on his back but now propped up by his elbows. 
Shit. Silas looks around for something. He grabs a stapler on top of the desk and slams it into Dr Kry’s head, knocking him unconscious. He starts rummaging through his pockets until he finds a key. 'Laboratory 2', it says on a small label.
"Where the fuck is that?" he pants. "Hey doc- … nevermind."
He hurries out into the corridor. He's not sure if the exhaustion he feels is from the needle or if it is from his imagination. All he knows is that he has to find you before he falls unconscious on the floor. 
Silas finds a floorplan over the hospital. His finger follows the illustration lazily. Damn it, stay conscious. Silas finds the laboratory three floors underground. He drags himself over to the elevators and presses the right button. His body is growing more and more tired, eyes wanting to shut. The image of Dr Kry appears in his brain and he grimaced. He has to continue. The doctor seems to want you for himself too. Over Silas's dead body.
Silas steps out of the elevator and looks around in this new, dimly lit corridor. The walls are made out of concrete. It reminds him of the basement. His vision starts to fail him. He's seeing double. But nonetheless, he finds the right door. He struggles to place the key in the hole now that he can barely see. The click from the lock gives him hope. Inside, he finds you curled up in a corner on the other side of the room, glaring at him.
"Don't be scared, Y/N", he says, voice sounding distant. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've- … I've learned from my mistakes … I'm going … going to …"
"What's wrong with you, Silas?" you ask hesitantly.
"That fucking doctor … he … he stab- … stabbed me with a … uh, with a needle. But that … doesn't … doesn't matter. I'm taking you with me any- … anyway. I'll kill him."
He reaches out for you, but you scurry away from him. His sloppy movements give you time to run past him out into the corridor. The elevator is free! Behind you, you can hear his body hitting the floor. Just as you're about to walk into the elevator, you remember the gun Silas has on him. You could use that. 
You give the elevators one last glance before running back to the testing room. You rummage through his pockets, finding the weapon in his coat. 
The elevator is occupied now. You swear mentally. You need to get out of here before Dr Kry comes. The elevator stops on your level … and opens. You're met by Dr Kry’s cold eyes. Blood is running down his face from his forehead. His eyes light up as he sees you.
"Y/N!" he gasps in relief. "Thank God! Where's Silas!"
"Unconscious", you mumble, pointing at the open door, "in there."
"Good, good. Let him be. Wait … why do you have his gun?"
"Why do you think so?! To protect myself, of course. It doesn't seem like anyone else is!"
"No, no, you are safe — with me!" 
"No. Something’s wrong with you too. I don't like it."
You hold up the gun towards him.
"Y/N, don't be ridiculous, I'm normal!" He says, glancing towards the weapon. "Come now, let's go to bed. You need to heal up. I'll take care of Silas. I saved you, didn't I?"
"I'm not sure. Did you really save me if you're the same?" You hover your finger over the trigger. "Get out of my way."
"Are you really going to shoot me here?"
"You said that no one would hear anything down here. So why shouldn't I?"
Dr Kry clenches his jaw. He looks at something behind you and his eyes widen. 
"H-How are you conscious?!"
In horror, you turn before Silas can touch you. To your surprise, it’s empty. You don’t have time to realize what has happened before Dr Kry grabs you from behind and steals the gun out of your hand. 
“Now, enough of this”, he says. “Come now, Y/N. We’re wasting time where you could be resting. I really don’t want to use the gun against you, but if you don’t realize what’s best for you, then I have to take drastic measures. Come now, little on, let’s go.”
He leads you into the elevator. The doors close. You glance at the gun with a plan in mind. You sink down the wall with your hand over your throat.
“What’s wrong?” Dr Kry asks quickly. “Aren’t you feeling well?”
“N-No”, you lie while forcing yourself to pant. “I can’t breathe!”
Dr Kry sinks down on his knees in front of you, letting go of the gun and starts to feel around your neck gently. You grab the gun and without a second thought, shoot him in the foot. The doctor screams out in pain and clutches the hurt area. 
“Y/N!” he shouts. “What are you doing?!”
“Getting the fuck out of here”, you sigh in stress. 
As soon as the doors open, you run without ever looking back. You know that you have a race against the clock. Silas will wake up sometime and Dr Kry won’t let this slide. Whether you like it or not … they’ll be back for you. Their little Y/N. 
2K notes · View notes
swiss-mrs · 15 days
Note
Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!
Second Chances
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Captain Syverson x GN!Reader
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)
Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.
Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.
In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.
It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.
You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.
And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.
You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.
The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.
You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?
You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?
For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.
Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.
You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.
He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.
He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.
He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.
He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide
He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?
He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.
He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.
It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.
He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.
He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.
It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.
He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.
It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.
Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.
His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.
“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.
“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.
You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.
You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.
Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.
As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.
It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”
“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.
“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.
The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.
“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.
The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.
“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.
“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.
You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.
Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.
It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.
“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.
“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.
“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.
“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”
“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.
“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.
“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.
“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.
You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”
You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.
“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.
“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to a reprehensible kid. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.
The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”
“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”
“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.
“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”
“Sy-”
“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.
You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fail back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.
“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, poorly stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.
“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.
“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle, skinny trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.
It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure overjoyed surprise.
He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.
As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.
You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.
“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.
You quickly pull your phone out and unlock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.
“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.
“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.
“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.
“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.
The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.
The most anyone got was “I have a date.”
____
I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)
Masterlist
Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest
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semperama · 8 months
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maxiel, hurt/comfort, just a little something I threw together to comfort myself after today.
Somehow, Max ends up following Daniel back to his motorhome. His mouth is still going a mile a minute, but Daniel isn't hearing distinct words anymore, only a low and comforting hum. He's tried to remember to nod every now and then. To smile. Otherwise Max might stop.
"Don't you have a ton of shit to do?" Daniel says when he can find a gap. He digs his phone out of his pocket with his good hand, glances at the absurd number of notifications he has, then tosses it down on the table. He can deal with that later. Or never.
"Huh?" Max says, and when Daniel looks up at him, he seems legitimately perplexed, like he's completely forgotten where--and who--he is.
"It's your home race, mate," Daniel says. "Don't you have a fuckton of press or whatever?"
"Oh." Max looks at his watch, frowns, then shrugs. "I don't really care. They can survive without asking me the exact same questions for the hundredth time, I think."
Daniel snorts. Max is probably right. What are they going to do, fire him? "As long as you don't get me in trouble," he says. He turns and flops down onto the couch, then winces, hisses, when it jostles his hand. "Fuck."
"Careful," Max says, rushing closer, his hands hovering. His voice is so...it's like something he'd use with his nephews, admonishing and gentle, and Daniel feels his throat close up, his eyes burn.
"I'm fine," he says, flapping his free hand at Max. "They have me wrapped up so tight, you could whack me with a hammer and I'd be fine."
Max frowns at him. "Let's not test it, alright?" He sits down next to Daniel, gingerly. It's awkward, sort of. Daniel hates visiting with people in this cramped space--sitting on the miniature sofa, nothing to look at but the kitchenette, the tiny window filled entirely by a rectangle of the wall of the motorhome next door. And now, he's too exhausted and in too much pain to be entertaining.
Still, he doesn't want Max to leave.
"Did they give you good pain meds?" Max asks.
Daniel lets his head tip back, and he closes his eyes. "Yep," he says, "but I'm just on Tylenol right now. The other stuff makes me feel sick." He takes a deep breath in, blows it out slow, focuses on the way his chest rises and falls. He can feel Max next to him, the heat of him. He knows how much he'd have to lean sideways for their bodies to be touching. "I'll take something stronger before bed, maybe." Then, because it's Max and Max is safe, he adds, "I wish I could just go home."
Fingers--warm and gentle--on the side of his face, first, and then on his neck, then gripping his shoulder, squeezing carefully. "I can leave, if you want," Max says.
They aren't like this with each other. They touch each other, sure--fist bumps, shoulder pats, hugs if they haven't seen each other in a while, all carefully platonic--but they don't touch like this. Daniel can feel Max's thumb on the skin just above the collar of his shirt, and it's hard to breathe, suddenly. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut.
"You can stay," he says.
What is this? Pity? He wants to look at Max's face, but he's too fucking scared. Scared he'll burst into tears or--or something even worse than that. Things have been so good. He didn't even realize how much he missed Max until he was seeing him this much again, laughing with him all the time, catching his eyes from across a room or across a table or across Checo's oblivious head and feeling...at home. Feeling like someone understands him and wants him around and--and wants him. Just him. Just as he is.
But Max has his own shit going on. His own life. His own friends. A fame Daniel won't match in his wildest dreams. Sometimes it feels like their roles are reversed from when Max first came to Red Bull. They have a similar rhythm, but Max is slightly out in front.
And now Max is touching him, and Daniel's not sure he can catch up.
"Or you can go," Daniel adds, quieter. "Whatever you want. I might pass out soon anyway."
Max's thumb slides along his collar and dips underneath. Daniel sucks in a sharp breath, anticipating it when Max slides his hand back up to his jaw and tugs it carefully toward him. Daniel's eyes are still shut when Max's mouth presses against his.
It's weird how much it doesn't feel weird. Max's mouth is so familiar against his that, if it weren't for his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, Daniel could swear they'd done this a hundred times already.
"I don't want to leave you," Max says, his lips soft against Daniel's cheek, then pressing again to the corner of his mouth, like he can't bring himself to put even an inch between them again. And yeah, Daniel gets it. He does.
"Fine by me," he says. If it weren't for his stupid fucking busted hand, he'd have pulled Max closer already. "Just be gentle with me."
It's a joke, kind of. He's not sure why he has to reach up and thumb a tear away from the corner of his own eye.
"Of course," Max says, and kisses him again. Again. "Of course."
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authorred · 1 month
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Astarion headcanons because it's been too long and I love this man | Astarion x GN!Reader
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Preface: Astarion, as complex as he tries to make himself out to be, is really a simple vampire. There are many ways to make him yours, and all of them don't require rocket science.
THIS MAN DESERVES THE WORLD--also it has been like 8 months since I last posted but shhhh
Warning(s): None
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Don't talk about his bite mark scars much, if at all. It doesn't necessarily bother him, but he'd rather not talk about it
If you're an artist of some kind and you draw him, he'll try to brush it off by acting grandeur and arrogant, but internally he'll be twirling his hair and blushing
If you draw what you believe he looked like before being turned he won't react the same way, but he'll stare at it (maybe to try to remember?)
It's no secret that Astarion has sexual trauma. I don't think he'd do well with hypersexuality or someone who wants sex a lot
I don't think he'd mind you being sexually attracted to him--he wouldn't blame you smh--it's not a deal breaker for him
Personally, I think he'd do better if any sexual attraction came second
Like he's said, he needs time to do anything intimate. Not that he'd never do it again, but every time he did it in the past it was for an ulterior motive (or against his will)
He needs a friend first, partner second
Show him he's worth more than his seduction and body
Moonlit night dates
Massage his ears when he sleeps on you
Kiss his wrinkles and laugh lines--softly, chastely
Handle him gently
Do not even think about adding a third to your friendship/relationship. Astarion has most likely never had someone to himself, that would definitely make him feel unworthy/not good enough
Making him slightly jealous might be okay but tell him you find it cute when he's slightly jealous, and you appreciate it. Assure him that it's okay.
After having his guard up for so long it's natural he'll feel uncomfortable being vulnerable--assure him
Assure him a lot. Tell him his feelings are valid and that he's not wrong for feeling x
When he loves you, he loves you wholly. Any sexual feelings he has will come way down the line
When they do, go so slowly. You cannot be impatient, otherwise he'll shirk away, and the relationship will change
I think Astarion would flourish better in a majority nonsexual relationship (sorry x, he's sexy af but his lore and boundaries are more important than his rail-ability)
Compliment him a lot--not anything superficial--compliment him. Compliment him like how you'd want to be complimented by someone you love
If you can, write him poems
If you're going to inevitably die before Astarion; when you start to age he won't love you less--he'll love you more
Your health will always come before his
If you're sick he'll take care of you for the most part
If you're in danger, even if you can handle yourself, your survival is always number 1 to him
Will sacrifice himself for you
Won't accept the opposite, but knows he can't stop you if you did
Would be devastated if you died for him
Genuinely would never get over it
I don't think he'd want to get married in the traditional sense but he would 100% want to do something to prove his commitment
FLOWER CROWN MAKE THIS MAN A FLOWER CROWN
Please just be so patient with him
Don't treat him like fragile glass, but don't be rough with him either
PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS
Hug him a lot. He needs it
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yuurei20 · 3 months
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Hello!
Bit of a dumb question
I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong
Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!
“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!
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The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.
Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)
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This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”
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Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.
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Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 
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The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.
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The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.
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This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.
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(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)
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But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.
While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.
This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.
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Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 
Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”
The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.
This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.
So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?
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(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)
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Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.
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Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).
Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.
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The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.
And his official, disliked food? Eel.
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To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.
But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬
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athina-blaine · 3 months
Text
you can't carry it with you if you want to survive (Nimona 2023) Chapter 2
Summary:
With their Queen deceased, no heirs, their Director terminated, three-quarters of their holy protectors retired, and their walls gone, the kingdom had called upon the scion of Gloreth to lead the way.
-
“The Director lied to you, Ambrosius. She used you and she hurt you. None of that is your fault. Why can’t you see that?”
Ballister reached out his hand, freezing when Ambrosius recoiled.
“I guess I’m just not as forgiving as you are, Bal.”
Rating: Mature Relationships: Ballister Blackheart | Ballister Boldheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin, Ambrosius Goldenloin & Nimona Chapters: 2/4 Chapter Word Count: ~6.1k Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Anxiety, Guilt, Self-Neglect, Ergomania, Post-Canon, Established Relationship
Chapter 2
Remember your training. Remember who you are.
We are born to protect this kingdom.
Thankfully, we have a descendant of Gloreth to lead us.
Refilling his glass, Ambrosius reclined in his chair as far back as the wooden frame would allow, running a hand through mussed hair. The office’s temperature had grown intolerable after only a few sips of the dark liquid, and so the top buttons of his uniform lay undone, exposing his throat and sternum. A few more sips, and he imagined he’d be tempted to roll up his sleeves and kick his feet up on the desk, boots and all.
Just considering it sent a roguish thrill coursing through him. Even in solitude, Ambrosius seldom permitted himself to sink into such a state of dishevelment. Every morning he’d stick to his routine—hair styled, face done, freshly shaven—even on rare days when he'd had no obligations but to otherwise laze about his apartment.
Ballister had teased him for this. He’d needle Ambrosius time and again, asking why bother waking up so early to groom himself when Ambrosius had confessed he hated mornings. On one occasion, he even went as far as wrestling an amused Ambrosius back into bed, pleading with him to enjoy a few more hours of sleep for a change.
At the time, Ambrosius had conceded. They’d only been dating a few months at that point, and it had taken embarrassingly little persuasion to convince a smitten Ambrosius to forgo his usual routine and curl back under the cozy covers. The next morning, however, while Ballister still slept, he rose at his usual hour to start on his hair.
It’s just what Ambrosius did. He’d never given it much thought beyond that. He’d developed the habit as early as primary school, recalling with fond warmth the mornings his mother would let him play at her vanity, mimicking her and her serene elegance. Ambrosius had been quick to fall into a morning routine of his own, smoothing out blemishes and tending to his brightened hair.
After all, even as a child, he’d understood the importance of maintaining appearances, even if—
Is something on your mind, Ambrosius?
… I’m fine, Director.
—even if, internally, he felt like his entire world was falling apart.
[Continue on AO3]
[Chapter 1]
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Text
Do you know what I love about moon knight? (Many things, yes but-)
The way that when Marc was questioning all of his sanity, questioning if he'd ever worked or ever met an egyptian god, questioning if everything that happened in the last decade was real, questioning everything he saw- He never questioned Steven. No Steven is there and he is real. They've been together since they are children, he survived because he knew he wasn't alone, he knew Steven is real, even if others probably have told him otherwise.
I think about that a lot.
And I want someone to love me as Marc loves Steven, a love so strong and real that against all odds, even if Steven being real sounds impossible Marc doesn't lose faith. Because a love that strong must be real
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